


Leave a light on

by bulletsandroses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't deny it, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Humor, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, because draco is snarky af, did I mention the angst?, hermione grangers swears a lot, literally right after the battle, slow burn more like wow I didn't know I had feelings for this git, they both have a filthy mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletsandroses/pseuds/bulletsandroses
Summary: “Granger, listen to me. If we… if I die, I need to tell you something” he was gripping her arm and she fought the urge to scream.“Don’t! Don’t you dare, Draco Malfoy” she snapped. “I didn’t beat the Dark bloody Lord to die now at the hands of a Dracula wannabe!”“What the actual fuck is a Dracula?”*Set some days after May 2nd. A lot of angst, many confrontations, a new danger and two people oblivious to their feelings.





	1. Of guilt and trials

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a two-chapter story that has ALREADY been written, so I think I'll be posting the next chapter by Sunday. Please let me know how you feel about this first part!  
> This chapter is mostly angst and a lot of talking because we love a comunicative couple. Next one will be heavier and I am SO excited about it.
> 
> Now, about the story itself. I don't know, at first I wanted to write about the aftermath of the Battle and how these two lovebirds fell in love, but then I rewrote the whole story and added some adventure because, what's better than some danger to make these two realize their feelings?  
> Hope you enjoy it!

Draco felt his chest tighten as he looked at that stupid, _so fucking_ stupid Granger from the other side of the Great Hall. He looked at her carefully, without even wanting to, he paid attention to the way she hugged the Weasel and the way she cried softly on his shoulder. The world had been about to crash about two hours ago and, even though Potter had been victorious, Draco couldn’t even think about it. Not when Granger had been _so stupid._ He wanted to go there and scream at her, maybe even point his own wand at her.

Hell, she was supposed to be the smart one in there, Draco thought. But, still, she had dared to face so many Death Eaters and she had even entered the Chamber with that useless Weasley boy. She had risked her life so many times that day and she had been so close to dying that Draco was still surprised she had got lucky. Maybe being the Chosen One’s best friend had helped to it or maybe it was just her who had managed to be successful in every mad plan that weird and annoying trio had organised.

However, her being alive and the Dark Lord being defeated was a fact.

Draco couldn’t think of a reason not to be happy at that moment, but he felt helpless inside. And then he remembered the way his Slytherin mates had looked at him when he had entered the Great Hall by himself, having left his mother outside, as if he were a traitor because of having fought for both sides. He thought about his father, the way Draco had yelled at him for not being brave enough to do the right thing for once, the way he had told him he felt ashamed to be his son and the way he had spitted that he was a coward.

And then Lucius was gone, and his dear mother was crying on his shoulder. And Draco had held her until Andromeda had come, accomplishing something that had seemed impossible at the time: Forgiveness. But still, Draco felt helpless. And empty.

No matter how McGonagall had sworn to protect him and his mother, who had been crucial to Potter’s victory. No matter how the Weasley patriarch had told him solemnly that his choice not to take Voldemort’s side at the end had been the good one, and that his actions wouldn’t be forgotten at the trial. His mother had kept on crying and he had maintained that empty look on his face.

Draco was going to trial. He was going to be tried. And he wasn’t sure about the outcome. It didn’t matter anymore; he didn’t care anymore. He just thought about how stupid Granger had been.

He thought about how much he’d like to approach her and then he remembered her crying in agony at his living room’s floor and he stopped himself from doing that madness. How on Earth had she been so stupid to risk her life in so many different ways and still, be proud of it?

But she was Granger; he reminded himself, nodding as he helped a first year with his bandages. She was that incredibly talented witch who was also a Griffindor, Merlin knows why. She was brave, and pure, and she was also so _bloody_ stupid.

Hogwarts was in ruins and there was so much to do. Granger had been the first one to offer to come back next year and even spend her summer there trying to fix anything but Draco wasn’t sure about how _on Earth_ she was planning to fix all the broken hearts that that war had left behind. Hers, to begin with.

“Malfoy” said a voice in a neutral tone, waking him up from his thoughts. Draco rolled his eyes when he saw who he had in front of him.

“Well, if it isn’t Potter, the boy who lived, the boy who won” he replied, smirking. Potter frowned and sat next to him. He looked terrible: his scar on the forehead wasn’t going to be the only one he was going to have for the rest of his life. Draco didn’t look much better himself; he knew it. But he didn’t care, either. He was as destroyed inside as he looked on the outside.

“I’ve talked to your mother. I will defend you on the trial…” Potter began, but Draco cut him off.

“Don’t bother, Potter” he murmured. Potter shook his head.

“Have you heard me? Have you heard McGonagall? You have chances to win the trial. You are part of the good ones, now. You should be thinking about your defense right now” Potter tried to explain, but Draco just laughed.

“Are you deaf, Potter? I don’t want a defense. I don’t deserve to win the trial. I just hope my sentence is long and I die in there”. And he really believed it. Potter got up and offered his hand.

“I’m going to do it anyway” he said, and Draco sighed. He was a stubborn one, Potter. But he didn’t complain, either. He just kept sitting there, looking around and wondering if all the chaos had been worth something. Next year was going to be a difficult one at Hogwarts. He just tried not to think about all the Slytherin boys who would be clearly ashamed of having been sorted in that house. Perhaps McGonagall finally, fucking finally made the whole house disappear.

And he also tried not to think about Granger, not to look at her while she was repairing the windows of the Great Hall, along with old Sluggy. She looked terribly tired, as if she had been on the run for several months. She had, indeed. She had also suffered a _Crucciatus_ curse for hours and she had received terrible scars from his aunt. Draco shook his head.

Yet, he wondered why he was thinking about her, how he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night at Malfoy Manor. She then surprised him looking at her and he saw in her eyes so many emotions, as if she was trying not to cry. And he felt emptier inside. She then moved a foot towards him and he didn’t think it twice. He just got up and left that unbearable place.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hermione, you can’t change this” Harry started, but Hermione shook her head furiously. They were all sitting at Griffindor’s common room. Herself, Harry and Ron, who had placed his hand protectively over her knee. She tried to calm herself down.

“It’s not fair! It is not fair, you know it.” she whined.

“’Mione, there’s nothing fair about war. There is nothing fair about anything that has happened”. Harry was right.

She hadn’t cried yet.

Ron hadn’t been able to keep it together any longer, and he had just screamed and yelled until she had shut him up with a kiss. He was a wreck, trembling against her. She couldn’t think of a way of calming him, not after seeing Fred’s corpse, not after seeing all those dead people, all those familiar faces and all that suffering that was going to come, that was already happening.

“They don’t get to have that” Hermione whispered. Harry shook his head. He was the hero of the story, books were going to be written about him, but he just looked so tired. So, so tired. So did she, but she knew she could take it. She was just on a quick break, she reminded herself. As soon as she was done with Harry’s wounds (they had agreed not to take him to the nursery, not when there was so much terror and pain in there, real, physical pain to be taken care of), Hermione was going back to the corridors.

“Hermione, it’s a way to know their stories, their reasons. They are going to be tried, there’s no way they are getting out of going to Azkaban”. Harry looked like the voice of the reason. That wasn’t his part to play. It was _hers_. She was the only one who had the right to say reasonable stuff. “Maybe now we get to avoid another rise. Now that we get to know what these people think, what were their objectives…” Harry continued with all those well-structured arguments against her idea. But she knew she was right.

“Their objectives? You don’t know what they were?” she almost shouted. “Oh, let me explain it for you. For starts, _oh, right._ They wanted to kill all Muggleborns. And we are a lot. Maybe keep us as slaves. What else? _What fucking else,_ Harry?” she continued.

“I know that…” Harry interrupted.

“Oh, now I remember. They wanted a society based on blood purity, terror and chaos”

“If we want to build a better society, we need to do this the right way. We all know the outcome, but there still needs to be a bloody trial!”

“They don’t deserve it” Ron interrupted. “They don’t deserve to explain themselves”. He said it in a low tone, almost husky, and Hermione had shivered. Buts she agreed. She didn’t feel bad about it.

“Ron, some of them actually changed sides. What about Snape?” Harry continued.

“It’s funny, you know, that it’s Harry bloody Potter who says it. May I remember that they killed your parents? Sirius? Lupin, Tonks? Moody? My fucking brother?” Ron asked, looking straight at him. Hermione watched them in silence as they challenged each other, maybe about to rip each other’s hearts out.

“He is right” Hermione whispered. Both of them looked at her and she just swallowed.

“Thanks, ´Mione. Of course, I am right. Forgiveness was what Dumbledore taught us, do you even remember that?” Harry said, obviously in a sarcastic way, but Hermione smiled at that and looked at both of their best friends, sitting across from each other and breathing heavily.

“ _Ron_ is right” she replied, looking at Ron in the eye, the way he was even more surprised than Harry to have her support.

“They deserve to rot themselves in a cell. Not even that. They deserve to die, not with an _Avada_. They deserve to die in a painful, slow death. They deserve everything bad that happens in this world, but us giving them the chance to escape… it basically explains why we are the good ones” she said.

Hermione got up and straightened her already broken and filthy top. Ron came closer to her and she let him hug her, she let his warmth embrace her and she tried to feel safe, to feel anything, but she didn’t. And she was scared to death. But she didn’t cry. She hadn’t cried yet.

“Maybe I’m tired of being the good one, you know” she whispered against Ron’s shoulder, as he caressed her hair. “Perhaps everything bad that’s happened to us is a reminder of why we shouldn’t be the good ones” she continued, closing her eyes. She felt Harry’s hand on her back and she breathed again, having them both next to her. They didn’t even know how tired she was, how much she loved them and how much she hated herself for loving so fiercely.

“There’s more” Harry murmured. Hermione lifted her head to him and bit her bottom lip.

“Now you’re going to tell us we are invited to the trials” Ron guessed. “Save yourself the speech. If I get near any of them, I will cut their arm off” he said, bitterly.

“I wouldn’t…” Harry began. But Hermione knew what was coming. She knew he was about to say something incredibly stupid and brave and good, and she didn’t want to hear it.

“Spit it out, already” she cut him off.

“It’s Malfoy. He is going to be tried, so is his mum. And I think you should be there. I am. I’m defending him” he said, at last.

She got quiet. She couldn’t move. She had completely forgotten about Malfoy. He was a Death Eater, too. He was going to be tried. And Harry was trying to help him. She felt Ron’s respiration fasten and she took his hand with strength.

“He has the Mark. He’s equal to any of them. Nothing changes” he said.

“Everything changes. If you don’t remember, it was his mum who saved me. If not for her, I would be dead. And Voldemort would have won”. Hermione felt a shiver down her spine when she listened that name. Ron swore under his breath.

“He was there when ´Mione was tortured. He was there and did nothing.”

“He switched sides after all; he did it not because he thought they were going to lose but because he believed in our cause”.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I am” Harry said, fiercely.

“What about all the times he’s bullied us? He’s hated us and he’s called us so many names, and now you decide to help him?”

“Would you rather watch him die in Azkaban?”

“That family doesn’t deserve our pity…”

“Just stop” Hermione whispered. “Stop talking. Don’t talk about Malfoy, don’t talk about anything”. She couldn’t bear it.

Malfoy was going to be condemned, she was sure. No one, apart from Harry, was going to defend him. But she knew Harry was right. She just didn’t want to accept it.

She knew Malfoy had saved her life, last night, when a curse who was meant to disarm her hit his chest and she just stood there, watching him groan in pain as she took Ron’s hand, who hadn’t even noticed it, and ran away to kill that snake.

Hermione didn’t think Malfoy remembered at all. But she knew it. She knew it had happened and she knew she owed him. But she also knew he deserved to be tried and he deserve to explain himself.

And he _deserved to be free._

But that didn’t matter anymore. Because the war was over and everyone that Hermione cared about was safe. Dead or alive.

She hadn’t cried yet.

 

 

When Hermione woke up in the middle of the night, it still felt like all her bones had been broken at the same time. She wondered whether that painful feeling would disappear, or maybe it was the aftermath of that night at Malfoy Manor, the consequences of all those months starving to death, always on the run, always exhausted. She cringed at the memory and found herself breathing heavily. She wasn’t able to cope with all the stress.

Hermione got up carefully, not wanting to wake any of her friends up. All of the former members of the DA had agreed on sleeping at the Common room, at least until all their parents would come back to pick them up. She realized her parents wouldn’t be able to take her home, basically because they didn’t know she existed. She couldn’t look around without noticing all of them had lost someone important during the war.

Hermione took one blanket and her purse, and she walked away. She needed to free her mind and that amount of people weren’t helping, so she went to the only place she felt she could be useful at: the hospital wing. There were still so many people in severe conditions, even days after the Battle, that she felt sick. St. Mungos hadn’t predicted that amount of injuries, so they had had to keep most of the wounded here, at Hogwarts.

One thing they all could agree on; Hogwarts didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt like death. Like a cemetery. Hermione didn’t hesitate and asked Madam Pomfrey what to do.

“You shouldn’t be here, darling” the nurse whispered, taking her hand. Hermione half smiled. She shouldn’t be anywhere, actually. She should be dead. Last night, to be precise. She wasn’t, thought, and there was one sole person who was responsible for that.

“I couldn’t sleep. It’s been days. And, still, I can’t sleep” she explained, not meeting Madam Pomfrey’s eyes. It had been 5 days. 5 days doing nothing but repair the walls of the school and the wounds of those hurt in battle. But there was so much to do, so much work to keep her mind busy.

“Maybe I could give you some sleeping potions…”the nurse suggested, but Hermione shook her head. She had tried. She had tried everything. Firewhisky had helped the most, to be honest.

“Please, let me help. I need to do something” she asked. Madam Pomfrey didn’t say anything, but led her between the beds and the people and pointed at those who still hadn’t had their wounds closed and stitched. When explained how to perform the spells, she smiled. Madam Pomfrey couldn’t understand the amount of times she had had to use those healing spells over the last years. She wasn’t the best at it, and Hermione personally thought that muggle stitches worked better and didn’t leave such scars. It was more laborious, but she didn’t really have anything else to do.

So she began to work on the patients, carefully choosing those who were half asleep or didn’t know who she was. She just didn’t want to talk to anybody.

Time passed, and Hermione lost count of how many scars she had healed. She didn’t think about anything, she just stitched and stitched. Her hands hurt and she felt tired, but she had to keep going. She had to escape from the night and all those hateful dreams that followed her whenever she tried to fall asleep. The sun rose, all nurses left for a rest and she kept stitching, changing beds, giving pain remedies, not talking to anyone. Hours later, she had sore fingers and her back hurt like hell, but she didn’t know if it was because of the _Cruciatus_ or the long hours she had spent in the same position. She hadn’t opened her mouth, she hadn’t said a word and she felt like the world was a much quiet place, a peaceful one. Hermione wondered how it would feel if she just didn’t speak for the rest of her life. There wasn’t much to say, to be honest with herself.

Hermione checked her last patient and realized it had been hours since her last meal. She got up and walked towards the door of the hospital wing, when she heard Madam’s voice behind the door and stopped. Hermione found herself listening behind the door to whatever conversation Pomfrey was having.

“She’s been up all night and all day. Maybe 18 hours. She can’t stay like this. She needs help” she heard the nurse whisper.

“We’ve tried everything, but Merlin knows how stubborn she is” another voice pointed out. _Harry._

“She tries to rebuild everything all by herself” a third voice agreed. _Ronald._

“We are all coping with our demons in or own way” Ron said, whispering. “She is at least doing something for the greater good”. Hermione then swore in her mind. They were talking about her, obviously. They happened to enjoy talking about her and her emotions.

“Ron, she’s killing herself. She doesn’t sleep. She doesn’t talk about anything that’s happened. She just avoids the freaking conversation”

“Maybe we should all do the same! Pretend nothing happened…”

“Weasley!”

“It’s true! I don’t know, I trust her. I know she’ll do the right thing. She’s a freaking _sister_ to me”.

“Sister? I thought…”

“You thought wrong. I guess it was the adrenaline. I still love her to death, though. Why are we talking about this?”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t hurt she didn’t want anything with you. You both have been trying to avoid your feelings for years…”

“And what? We all need each other in many different ways right now. Maybe in the future…”

“Boys, I don’t think this is the moment” Madam Pomfrey interrupted. Hermione frowned.

There were children who had just become orphans, people in that room fighting for their lives, parents whose kids had disappeared or died and Death Eaters who were on the run. But they were talking about _her_ and her relationship with both of the boys. Oh, she felt furious.

“You know she hasn’t cried yet. You’ve cried, I’ve cried. Everyone has” Harry murmured.

“She might not need to cry. She’s freaking strong, you know…”

“I CARE ABOUT HER, RON! I won’t sit around when my best friend is about to have a panic attack whenever we mention what we’ve been through. What if she is in shock?”

“And I care about her just as much as you do, but whenever we try to talk to her she runs off. She doesn’t even stay at night. Maybe it’s best if we leave her.”

Hermione shook her head. For once, Ron was right. Merlin, how much she loved that giant pain. But, again, she felt so freaking helpless, with her friends worrying about her and herself not being able to tell them what was wrong. She opened the door of the hospital wing and went out; finding herself in front of both boys, one beside the other, looking at her with so much worry in their eyes Hermione couldn’t take it. Ginny was there, as well as Neville. And as the little one of the Weasley opened her arms to welcome her, Hermione stepped back and shook her head. No one could understand that she just wanted to fix the destruction that had surrounded her.

She shook her head and ran right, climbing the stairs.

Without even wanting it, she found herself in the Astronomy Tower. She took a packet of cigarettes from her purse. It was her father’s. Her heart ached remembering her parents, who she hadn’t been able to find yet. It wasn’t necessary at the moment, she reminded herself. She had time to cure everyone and then she could be able to have her family back. Hermione hesitated, but she found out she didn’t really care, so she just lit one cigarette up and breathed the smell that calmed all her body down. Maybe this muggle habit she’d been trying to avoid for long summers was the only way to escape from her problems, just until the cigarette burned itself to ashes in her mouth.

She hadn’t cried yet; she knew something was wrong with her and she knew not facing her feelings was going to be a big problem. But she wasn’t strong enough to cope with the stress, the pain, the sadness that being alive brought.

She wasn’t alone, though.

“I know you’re there” she whispered, turning around from her place, sitting down on her knees, back on the window. Hermione had felt that presence since she had arrived to her hidden place. She just didn’t care who was there. At least, she thought she didn’t mind, not until she recognized his face and her heart fell to her feet.

“Malfoy” she whispered. She hadn’t seen him since the morning after the battle, at the Great Hall, and she wasn’t going to lie, he looked like crap. His eyes looked bigger than ever, no light in them, surrounded by dark circles. He wasn’t thin at all, but he looked scrawny and tired, and his jaw looked sharpest than ever.

 But it was his way of moving that shocked her. As if he was trying not to scare her, moving into the light slowly. The dark robes she was used to see him into had disappeared. He was just wearing trainers, an old sweater and jeans. Hermione put the blanket over her shoulders and opened the purse, looking for another cigarette.

“I should leave” Malfoy said, his voice flat. Hermione looked at him, frowning, while she held the cigarette between her lips and lit it with the muggle lighter.

“You should” she agreed. But he didn’t move, and Hermione found herself wondering why he was still there, why he hadn’t left her alone. He just looked at her as she smoked and she thought he would probably be thinking the same about her. She looked terrible, her hair frizzy and tangled, her face pale and scratched and her soul broken.

But Malfoy hadn’t left and she felt uncomfortable in his presence.

“You’re being tried” Hermione commented, exhaling the smoke. He just blinked and nodded.

“I am”

“You shouldn’t be tried” she said, not being able to hold back and shut up. He looked at her, without understanding. “Every Death Eater should just get the kiss and be locked in forever”. Malfoy sat next to her and Hermione hugged her knees, after throwing the holder away.

“Do you really think so?” he asked, his tone low, as he approached her. Hermione nodded, half smiling.

“I do”

“Then, thankfully the Ministry will listen to the Brightest Witch’s wish and end my torment” he added, bitterly. Hermione got up and took her purse, not looking away from him.

“But you changed your mind” she whispered. Malfoy rolled his eyes and Hermione guessed he had already heard those words several times.

“Cut the crap, Granger. Do you need to see the Mark?”

“Whatever. I have better places to be”. She didn’t insist. _You might be worse than them, since you took the mark because you were scared and not because you believed in him._

“Working your ass off until you faint? I’ve seen you, Granger; I know what panic attacks are when I see them. You should tell McGonagall” he said, and Hermione felt that now familiar rage in her chest. How dare he? He had no right to observe her; he had no right to even talk to her. Not when he was about to be tried and she wasn’t going to be there. He shouldn’t be there, making her furious. He shouldn’t be there, noticing those things no one had. And she should be leaving, she shouldn’t be talking with him.

“Shut up”

“I’m not stupid, Granger”. _Just let me be, Malfoy, stop pretending to care. Work on your trial and be free._

“What do you care?” she snapped. “Why do you suddenly pay so much attention to what I do? Just…” She breathed and got up. “Just take care of your own shit, Malfoy. You have enough to deal with”. She walked past him and was about to go down the stairs when she heard his voice again.

“I also wish we didn’t get to be tried. I don’t want to be saved”. She looked up at him and her heart shrank. Malfoy looked so small, so broken and so sorry. Hermione had been avoiding that kind of people who felt too much for the last week. She just had to get away from there.

“You deserve the chance” she whispered, instead. “I don’t think you do, but they do and they won’t let you rot in hell”. Malfoy laughed.

“So, what happened to Granger, defender of the lost causes?”

“Maybe you are not the cause I want to fight for” Hermione replied.

She didn’t know why she was talking to him that way, why she wasn’t about to cry and why she didn’t feel anything inside. But Malfoy just smiled.

“I wouldn’t be the cause I would choose to fight for, either” he agreed, and Hermione relaxed her shoulders. Malfoy looked outside the giant windows and sighed.

“Maybe we are all doomed, all of us who fought.” He said, after a minute. Hermione thought about it. He was right. She also deserved to be tried, for lying, killing. For having hope and not losing it even though everyone screamed at her to let go. It might have been her mistake.

“I’m not sorry of my choices” she just said.

“I am”

“Then fix them. Try to get as many supporters as you can before the trial.”

“You just said…” he started.

“I know what I said. I don’t think you should get to explain yourself. I don’t know why you did all those horrible things and I certainly don’t want to know your real reasons because they might be worse than those I imagined” Hermione interrupted him.

“Will you forgive me?” His question confused her.

“What does it matter? I will be gone after this place is repaired”. Malfoy smirked.

“We both know you won’t”

“If you know me so well, you’ll know my only question here is why you saved me, that night” she then snapped. She had had enough of philosophy, of forgiveness and all that crap.

“I don’t know. Will you forgive me?” he repeated, frowning. She shrugged and turned her back on him.

“I don’t know. Do you feel sorry for saving me?”

“No. Do you feel sorry for killing the man who attacked me right after I took the curse?”

“No”. And with that said, silence sat between them. She frowned at him, still trying to understand him. He was being honest in a brutal way and she didn’t know why that conversation had been the only interesting one she’d had since the Battle.

Hermione didn’t want to keep on talking. She wanted to go back to the Hospital Wing and work until her fingers bled, but she couldn’t stop staring at him, at the way his shoulders relaxed as he looked outside. There was nothing to look at. The Quidditch pitch had been destroyed, burned to ashes. She wanted to scream at him because she wanted him to know how utterly disgusting, he had been all these past years.

Yet all she could think of was how much Draco was feeling at the moment whereas she felt empty in the inside.

“How do you cope? With al the guilt” she murmured, then.

“I don’t” he replied, looking straight at her. His grey eyes were shining with danger, but she found herself captivated by them. Maybe Malfoy really deserved to die in Azkaban. But, again, so did she. “How do you cope with all the crap you are feeling?”

“I’ve found myself not feeling anything at all. Sadness, maybe. Nothing more”

“You’re a fucking liar, Granger. I thought we were telling each other the truth”

“Don’t get into my head” she groaned, closing her eyes. She wanted to run, she wanted to escape and not talk to anyone in her entire life.

“You feel guilty for being a good person, don’t you? Being good hasn’t brought you anything but problems. You love too much and you expected it would be recompensed in the end”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re infuriating?”

“To your information, being a bad person doesn’t bring me any satisfaction, either. So, perhaps, we are all doomed since we are born, us humans”

“Never took you for a philosopher, Malfoy” she replied, bitterly. He shrugged and she hated him, hated him for being right. He opened his mouth again, but she was faster. “Stop talking. I’m not opening my heart to you of all people”

He smirked, again, and she wanted to punch that smile away from that stupidly attractive face. Was it the lack of sleep that made her feel so calm around him? She was crazy, she was becoming a lunatic.

“Go, then.” He urged her, narrowing his eyes.  Hermione felt her heart against her chest, beating faster than ever. She hugged herself and let the blanket fall onto the floor.

But she didn’t move, and neither did he.

She studied him; in a way she hadn’t let herself look at him before. He had broad shoulders and a skin as light as porcelain, now full of cuts and bruises. His nose was pointed and seemed to have been broken and repaired, she noticed.

“I kind of have a feeling I’m been observed. I don’t like it, Granger” he said, then, and she turned her head, her cheeks burning.

“Prick”

“Good to know nothing has changed” he replied, amused, and she was so, so done with him and his sarcasm and his presence.

“Will you please fuck yourself? You just stand here, complaining about how much of a shit person you’ve been your whole life, expecting me to... what? What do you expect from me?”

He shrugged again, and sighed. Hermione bit her lower lip, waiting for an answer that didn’t seem to appear. What did _she_ expect from him?

 

* * *

 

 

Draco thought about it. What did he expect, establishing that conversation? It felt nice, it felt bloody nice to finally talk with someone who didn’t believe in him having changed. It felt good to know she didn’t want to have anything to do with him. At least he felt calm. Calmer than ever.

But it still stung, the fact that she seemed so broken and no one seemed to notice it, no one but him. He wanted her to get all of her fury out of her system so that she could be the best person in the room again, full of life and forgiveness and hope.

Everything would be chaotic if Hermione Granger lost hope.

“I expected you not to lie” he answered, slowly. He saw a light in her big brown eyes. Was it anger? Was it amusement?

“I expected an apology” she snarled, then, and he was shocked to hear it. Her voice was low, full of cold fury. “I don’t know. I expected you to fight for forgiveness, not giving up so easily. You’re the only fucking person here who has a chance to be pardoned and here you are, feeling sorry for yourself and hoping you rot in hell” she continued.

He knew she was right. But it still hurt to hear it from someone else.

“I don’t want your fucking disappointment, Granger” he roared, but she kept talking. Always talking, that witch. She didn’t seem to ever shut up.

“Well, I didn’t want your bloody insults during six years at this school and I still got them, you know? I fought to be here, to be accepted and you ruined every good moment by calling me a filthy mudblood. Guess what,” she added. “life is hard, for everyone!”

“You seem to be way over those moments, Granger. You broke my nose, remember?”. He wasn’t there to argue about some bullying. He knew who he was, he had more important stuff to be sorry for. “If you want to be mad at me for something, you’d better choose a good one from the list”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Malfoy? I can be mad for whatever I want. I’m not even mad anymore, you know”. No, he wanted to tell her. That wasn’t the point. She had to be angry.

“There’s so much to choose. Oh, I let my crazy aunt torture you for hours and then let you rot in my dungeons. I tried to kill Dumbledore and I fucking let Death Eaters in Howgarts. That was a good one, to be fair” he snarled. She was breathing heavily. _That’s it, Granger. Give me some of that rage._

“Why are you doing this?” she murmured.

“I tortured twenty-three people the same way you were tortured. And let me tell you, it wasn’t fun. I still did it. You should have brought a pen, to write them down. I’m sure Potter will change his mind after this”

And then she got up and he thought she was going to leave, but she only got closer to him. He realized then how much smaller she was, almost two heads smaller than him. All hair and dark eyes and long lashes.

“You’re an asshole. You want everyone to hate you? That’s fine with me”

“The same way you want to be punished by your actions, Granger”

“I don’t need to be punished. I was on the good side, have you forgotten? I fucking won the War. I am a hero”

He laughed then, and she punched him hard in the chest. Her hands were tiny and pale, bitten nails. He shouldn’t be paying so much attention to those little details.

“Oh, sorry, that’s right. You’re a _bloody_ war hero. But we both know you don’t feel like one. You feel guilty and you shouldn’t be, right?”

“Stop! Stop trying to figure out how I think, for God’s sake. It drives me mad. And get off me!”. But he couldn’t stop walking towards her, cornering her against the wall. He put both hands on either side of her head and looked down.

“Just tell me, Granger. You feel lost, don’t you?”. He knew he was right. It was not that hard to read her. They weren’t so different, after all. She was trying to be punished for all the bad stuff she had done but no one could see, and he wanted to tell everyone nothing he had done was good, no matter how hard they tried to convince him otherwise.

“STOP!”

“Come on, tell me. Tell me I’m the worst. But you can’t, can you?” he continued. She looked at him and there was something else in her eyes. “I am the only one who’s figured you by now, haven’t I? Not Potter, not even the Weasel”

“Don’t call him that” she interrupted, but she didn’t deny it. He smiled, then, and got even closer to her. He noticed she hadn’t lowered her head. She was afraid of herself, that’s for sure, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She should. Everyone should.

“You wish you could say it out loud, don’t you? That you feel like shit, that you feel guilty because you don’t want to be happy. Not after how much you’ve sacrificed and how much you’ve put up with. You expected relief after the war. You expected to feel whole again” he continued; his voice rasped against his tongue. She bit her lip again and he arched an eyebrow.

“But” he continued, merciless. “The War is over. And Miss Granger still feels guilty”

“You have no right to do this” she answered, pushing him hard. He danced on his tiptoes not to lose the balance and she breathed heavily, tying her hair in a low bun. “You have no fucking right to come here and _force_ me to face my feelings, not when it is you who’s going to be tried”

She began then to shout as many insults as she knew, but Draco had long ago disconnected. There was something wrong. All of the sudden, all his skin was itchy and he felt a shiver down his spine. There were clouds surrounding the castle, all of a sudden. It had been long since he’d seen those clouds. A week, to be exact.

It was an odd feeling, something he thought he’d never have to face again. That electricity through his whole body, lighting it up from the inside. He shook his head. It was fucking impossible, he kept repeating in his head.

And then, the whole tower trembled.

“And” Granger kept screaming, “don’t you ever think you are better than me, because, you know what! You know what, Malfoy?! You’re a bloody snake and you just fucked with my mind! Like you have always done! You rat!”

“Granger” he murmured. It had become impossible to breathe now; the air was heavy in his lungs. He felt himself drowning. She didn’t listen.

“Why don’t you open a fucking psychology consult, you moron? You don’t know me! You and I hate each other and I really should have left as soon as I saw you!”

“Will you please shut the fuck up?!”. She opened her eyes, her mouth forming a perfect “O”. she frowned, then, waiting for an explanation. How could he explain it to her? It was something you either felt or you didn’t.

“What’s bitten you?” she asked then. She hadn’t felt a thing. But it was unmistakably close, now. He didn’t think twice and took her hand, pulling her into an embrace, waiting for it to break.

“MALFOY!” she muffled against his shoulder.

But he held her tight against him, his wand already in hand. He murmured a protecting spell and waited.

One.

Two.

Three.

_BOOM!!!!_


	2. No right to love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It wasn’t that hard, you know, to trust me”. He snorted and she rolled her eyes, ignoring his tall figure approaching her, dangerous and elegant. Why was she describing him as elegant? He wasn’t. he was a prat. And a Death Eater.
> 
> “Oh, now we are talking about trust”
> 
> “Shut up. What else did you feel? Who do you think could be the target?”. She already knew the answer to that question, but she still wanted to hear it from him.
> 
> “You already know, Granger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a lot of plot and magic and, as usual, a lot of angst.
> 
> Oh, did I mention a lot of feelings? Our love-birds are finally realizing how they feel towards each other.
> 
> What a shame they always find the worst moments to admit their feelings.

Hermione thought she might be deaf after that explosion. It could be the loudest one she’d ever presented, she thought. She closed her eyes and found herself hugging Malfoy tightly, waiting for it to be over. There was a loud noise, the whole castle _shivered_ and then there was nothing.

Silence.

She looked up, but Malfoy was not staring back at her. No, he had that worried look on his face and looked outside the window. Hermione followed his gaze. Nothing seemed wrong. But there was something inside her that told her what had just exploded was important.

“What… What was that?” she whispered, taking a step back.

“That was dark magic, Granger. And if you want to save these people, you’d better fucking run to tell McGonagall” he replied, his voice flat, still looking outside the window, looking for… _what was he looking for?_

“Will you please explain yourself?”

“I don’t know, all right? I knew there was a spell coming, I fucking _felt it_ ”

Of course. If someone was doomed to find dark magic, that person had to be Draco bloody Malfoy. Of course, he was the one who felt it. Maybe she had been able to, too, if she hadn’t been so worried trying to insult him.

But what had exploded? And why wasn’t the castle awake by now, everybody running outside?

“Let’s… let’s go” she shook her head and stormed down the stairs when she didn’t feel him by her side. There it was, the adrenaline she’d ached for during the last days. That nervous feeling that night would be the last one. She imagined she’d never feel it again, but there it was.

Hermione didn’t know if she felt relieved or worried.

She looked back, he was still standing there, looking outside the damn window. “Malfoy! Will you please hurry up?”

The way he looked back at her, something between angry and surprised, made her heart tighten in her chest. She offered her hand.

“Don’t give me that look. You are coming with me”. He groaned.

 

 

“So, you’re telling me you _felt_ the dark magic, just like that?” Harry asked, again. They were all sitting at the stairs next to the Great Hall. Hermione finished her braid and leaned on the wall. There were five of them. Draco Malfoy, standing elegantly in front of Harry, with Blaise Zabini (where the Hell had he even come from, she didn’t know, she hadn’t even seen him at the Battle of Hogwarts) next to him, like a bodyguard.

Ron was there, of course, still too close to her, as if she was about to break at any moment. She wasn’t. She was, in fact, still pissed at them for discussing her own health without even consulting her. Not that she would have told them anything.

“Bullshit” Ron muttered, but she elbowed him, hard. It was so weird. Nobody could get a hold of McGonagall, the students had begun their day as if nothing had happened, but Hermione still had that tingly feeling something was off.

“What’s bullshit is that no one from that Order of yours hasn’t come to check what’s wrong”

“Well, maybe there is nothing odd and it was just you and your desire of attention” Ron spat, but Malfoy didn’t even flinch.

Hermione bit her nails, lost in her mind, nervous. She couldn’t stand to be there, not when she knew. She knew there was a spell surrounding them and she couldn’t figure out who had casted it, or what for.

“Of course, it was me, Weasley. The castle almost falls down but, again, it was me” Malfoy snorted. Harry shushed them.

“Shut up. Okay. This is what we know”

“Let me help you. We know nothing, Potter” Zabini interrupted. Hermione saw Harry biting his lips in order not to punch him right in the face.

“What were you even doing at the Astronomy Tower, anyway?” Ron asked, his hand at the lower part of her back, burning against her. She breathed and felt Malfoy’s look onto hers. She didn’t look back, though.

“I thought my trial was in front of the Wizengamot, Weasley” he replied, calmly, his eyes still on her. She snorted and hided a smile.

“I bet you are the reason this is all happening”

“Of course, I am, Weasley. I am also the reason everything bad has happened to you. Blame be, for sure” he repeated.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I was there” she began. “You know, after you two began discussing my mental health. I ran there. He was doing nothing wrong. We jumped into each other” she murmured, and he felt Ron stiffen next to him.

Well, if cornering someone into admitting something wasn’t wrong, after all.

At least, they stopped looking at Malfoy in a suspicious way, which she thought should be added to the list of things Malfoy owed her for.

“What the hell were you doing with him?” Ron whispered. She groaned.

“None of your business, Ronald”.

“We are searching the castle for any danger” Harry settled, after a brief discussion. Malfoy, of course, was against it. He wanted to wait for the elders.

Zabini, surprisingly, offered to go down the Slytherin area, and Ron was pleased to finally do something different to give interviews and cure people.

“It’s not one of those adventures you like so much, Potter. We are talking about dark magic, and a person as powerful as the Dark Lord himself”

“We don’t know that” she replied, frowning.

“I don’t know, Granger, but I’d be pretty confident in my powers if I wanted to set some dark spell onto Hogwarts not even a week after the Dark Lord has been defeated. Every Death Eater is in prison” he said, still with that calm, icy voice that made her want to jump onto him and kick him in the balls. But, still, there was something about the way he moved, too careful, that made her suspect he was hiding something.

“Not every one” Ron replied, dryly. Harry coughed and stood between the two of them with an alarming speed.

“Okay, okay. Ron, you are coming with me. Malfoy, you go with Zabini and we communicate with our Patronus”.

Hermione looked at him, suspicious.

“What about me?”

“Er… I don’t really think you should be here, given your…” Harry began. Hermione made herself breathe before arguing with him.

“Given my what?”

“Well, that was quite a tantrum you threw a few hours ago at the Hospital” Ron continued. She looked at both her friends. They were treating her as if she was crazy. Oh, she was crazy mad at them. She was fine. She had to be fine.

And yet, they were looking at her with that pity in their eyes.

“Fuck you both, I’m coming”

“Well, then you come with us and…”

“No fucking way I’m going to be next to you, Ronald” she snarled, hurt. She was so hurt right then, yet she didn’t cry. Maybe she was immune, after all.

“Hermione…”

“That’s it. You wanted me to talk? Okay, let’s talk. I hate this feeling, all right? I hate that you are all trying to take care of me and you don’t even understand what’s going through my mind. Nope, I’m not crazy, not yet, I hope. I just need some space to process everything and Malfoy here…”. She knew what she wanted to say. _He has understood me and put my feelings into words and you couldn’t even be close to what he achieved._

“He knows how to identify Dark Magic, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay with him. He knows what will happen if something happens to me” she said instead, guilt already pooling in her chest.

“Low, even for you, Granger” Zabini mentioned, with a smirk.

“You’re not coming with me, Granger” Draco murmured. Did it look like a threat? Because Hermione didn’t even move from where she stood, daring him to open his mouth again.

“I am. Deal with it. I will hex you”

It was decided, then. Hermione didn’t even ask for permission as he pushed Malfoy and began walking behind him, not even daring to look back.

Ron didn’t stop looking at them as they disappeared in the corridor, and it was only when she was pretty sure no one was around, not even the kids that were still running around the castle, that she pushed him hard against the wall, taking her wand out and pointing it at him. He almost looked astonished, but she knew better.

“What the actual fuck, Granger?”

“How dare you lie to everyone?”

“Are you insane?!”

“You are going to tell me right now what you know about that explosion” she demanded.

“I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about”

“Seriously? Okay, let me ask you again”. She knew she had to be careful, but she also knew she was almost 100% right. “Where is your father, and why hasn’t he answered your Patronus?”

“My father doesn’t have a Patronus, Granger. Neither do I” he answered, calmly, even though there was a flick in his eye. She knew it.

“Bullshit. You can still communicate. Will you tell me, or will I have to use Veritaserum on you?”

“ _Bloody witch”_ he sighed, and Hermione smirked. “No, don’t do that. You don’t even know what you are talking about. I was telling the truth when I told you I felt dark magic”

Hermione smiled again.

“You only felt it because it was your magic. I’ve read enough to know each family has some ancient magic. Pureblood families, at least. It’s sacred magic, dark and obscure and very dangerous. Voldemort tried to use it, but he was half-blooded, himself. He couldn’t”

“How on Earth do you know so much about this stuff, Granger?” he tilted his head to the side, platinum hair onto his eyes and she resisted the urge to take it away from his face. He sounded… surprised? Maybe in awe?

“It doesn’t matter” she replied, blushing.

“Okay, you are right. As always, of fucking course. I don’t even know why you lose your time when you could become an Auror right now”

“Malfoy”

“All right. I felt it because it was my magic. And I don’t even know why it happened and where the hell my father is but I’m sure it was his doing”.

She nodded, crossing her arms.

“It wasn’t that hard, you know, to trust me”. He snorted and she rolled her eyes, ignoring his tall figure approaching her, dangerous and elegant. Why was she describing him as elegant? He wasn’t. he was a prat. And a Death Eater.

“Oh, now we are talking about trust”

“Shut up. What else did you feel? Who do you think could be the target?”. She already knew the answer to that question, but she still wanted to hear it from him.

“You already know, Granger. Don’t waste your time”

“I want you to say it” she murmured, looking straight at him. He sighed and threw a hand in the air, trying to comb his long hair.

“Bloody muggle-borns. Are you satisfied?” he replied.

She watched him as he went up one staircase, and frowned. That was not the way to the Slytherin’s common room.

“That’s not where we are going”

“You are going back to Potter”

“You’re delusional if you think I’m letting you go on your own” she replied, fast. He shook his head, positioning himself between her and the stairs. She balanced her options. She could hex him, petrify him. Knock him out with a punch.

“Do I look like I’m bloody joking?” he questioned, arching an eyebrow. Fuck. Why did he have to be so good-looking? It wasn’t fair, to be such an arse and look like that.

“Will you let me help?”

“No”

“Malfoy”

“I said no, Granger. If I’m right and father is behind this, I assure you don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t care about me”

“I probably don’t. But it will look really bad at my trial if I let you die under my father’s magic” he smirked. Hermione blinked once, twice, three times. That was low. Maybe she deserved it for what she had said earlier, in front of Harry and Ron. But Hermione had said it in order to be left alone, which she had succeeded in doing.

He was just being an ass.

“Oh, cool motive. But you’re still a suspect of conspiracy against global peace. And you’re a Death Eater. I’m not letting you wander around the school unsupervised” she answered in her most serious tone. He didn’t have to know how much he’d hurt her.

It shouldn’t affect her, what he thought of her. But she still felt something in her chest. What was that earlier conversation supposed to mean, then? What the hell was he trying to do? Win her over? Convince her of declaring at his trial using reverse psychology?

“It would be a pity, then, if you ended up dead in the aftermath of a slow, long torture that no one but me could stop” he replied, getting closer, his breath hot against her ear. She closed her eyes, thinking of that.

He was trying to scare her, that was for sure. He was not going to achieve it.

“You wouldn’t let me die” she murmured, but she was not so sure about that, not anymore.

“Oh, I would. Let me explain it to you. My family has always despised muggle-borns, and last time I checked, you’re one of them”

It shouldn’t hurt her that way, but it still stung. She was a muggle, after all. And she was supposed to be in danger just because of who she was.

It was all that racist bullshit all over again. It floated again, in front of her. She would never be a true witch, and Malfoy, fucking Malfoy, had made it sure to make it clear. She found herself wanting to punch him until he bled.

“You are an asshole” she spat, clearly more affected by his words that what she expected. He just smiled, cruel, as he’d always been. Bloody traitor.

And there she was, thinking he might understand her better than anyone else. Idiot.

“For fuck’s sake, Granger, just go back with your muggle friends”

 “I loathe you, Draco Malfoy. You and your racist family, always putting us in danger”

“There you go. Bitter about your blood status? I could use a change” he mocked her, and there, there she promised herself she would never trust him.

The slap was imminent. She should feel better, now that her hand hurt, not as much as his cheek. He hissed, his hand over his pale skin, now as red as her sweater. When Malfoy looked at her, he was furious, but she didn’t care. Not when all Hermione wanted to do was to cry.

She feared once she started, she would never stop.

She was going to do everything in her hand to put him behind bars. She was done being the good guy.

“I really hope you get what you deserve”. Hermione was already turning on her heels, her heart beating strongly in her chest, when he heard him mutter.

“Just go! Fucking _mudbloods_ , always nosy”

Hermione didn’t look back. Not when a single tear was falling down her cheek. She ran towards the Great Hall, no destination in mind. She just wanted to get away from that characteristic Draco Malfoy smell that had blinded all her senses.

Fuck, he’d been good. He probably knew all along what was going to happen. Of course, daddy’s boy was sent to the Astronomy Tower to distract her. She was the Brightest Witch of Her Age and she had been fooled by that git.

Hermione turned left, kicking an armour with all her strength, trying to channel her anger onto that metallic boot because, god help her, she was so mad at that idiot. She should have hexed him right away and she should have avoided another great Battle but she was so shocked, so fucking shocked by his change of attitude that she… she couldn’t react.

And now the whole school might be in danger, thanks to her stupid mind. She felt herself shrink, a lot of noises around her.

Her heart was bumping incoherently, so fast it would probably stop at any time and she felt as if there was no air left in her lungs. She was drowning, she was alone and she needed to get out.

But there was so much to do. So much to think about.

Bellatrix’ face was upon her, her stupid, frizzy black hair tickling her neck, her cheeks. It was all over her and she could only run. This was going to happen to her if she didn’t stop Malfoy. She could not bear another torture. She could not bear another stupid man with crazy ideas ruining her peace.

Hermione kept on running, something swelling in her chest, a bump in her throat. She had to find the elders, of course. Fucking idiot, she was. A bloody idiot for trusting and thinking he could change. She had to get anyone, who knew what could happen.

Harry. She had to get to Harry. She wasn’t even angry at him, not anymore, she guessed.

Ron. Ginny. Anyone. She looked outside; the sky was darker than ever. As if it wasn’t almost noon. Oh, crap. Hermione wondered where everybody had hidden, since the corridors were clearly empty. She hoped, prayed Harry had alarmed the whole group of students and they were all safe in the Hospital Wing.

What kind of psychopath casted a dark spell on Hogwarts when there were still wounded people and the air still smelled like death?

Oh, she answered herself as she stopped at a corner to catch her breath, the Malfoy kind of maniac. She stopped on her tracks and changed her mind, determined to go back to Malfoy and disarm him before he could get to his father…

And she bumped right into Blaise Zabini’s chest.

“Woah, Granger, easy there” he said with that low, husky voice. She looked up at him. His dark skin was only a couple of tones darker than hers but he still looked like an ebony Greek god.

_I wish I was dead, right now._

“Where are my friends? I need… I need to tell them something”. He gently put his hands over her shoulders and Hermione grimaced at the contact. What was he doing?

“Will you calm down? Potter has locked everyone in the Great Hall, injured included”. She sighed. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Why was she still feeling out of breath?

“No, McGonagall. Mrs. Weasley, we need an adult. We need the Aurors” she exhaled, and Zabini, the bastard, smirked.

“They are all here, Granger. Come on. Let’s go, I was actually looking for you both”

Hermione stilled.

“Granger, where is Malfoy?”

“That’s what I need to tell them! It was him; it was Malfoy who casted the spell. It was his dark magic…”

“Granger, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Hermione ran her hands through her hair, pulling her messy bun out and letting it all fall on her shoulders. She couldn’t stand still. There was a buzz in her ears, probably related to the stress she was going through.

“His father. Lucius Malfoy. He casted the spell and it is supposed to attack muggle-borns, of course it is against us. Seriously, Zabini, _you purebloods have an obsession._ I think deep down, you envy us because we have TV” she snarled, and Zabini had to push her against a wall to make her focus on what she was saying.

“Malfoy Sr. is here?”

“Yes” she breathed, and Zabini swore under his breath. He was the only pureblood whose family hadn’t been invested in the War. She didn’t trust him, but at least he wasn’t evil like _others._

“Oh, crap. I need to get you out of here”. She opened her mouth and she tried to breathe properly but all she could do was stand there, shivering. She was all of a sudden really, really cold.

“But… we need to stop Malfoy. He’s gone to him; they are both together in this”.

 Zabini barked a laugh and guided her towards the large corridor. His hands were the only thing tying her to the reality. Her mind was still at Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy’s face smirking at her from behind the chair were Bellatrix was sitting.

“I mean it, Zabini, let go!”

“You really are not as smart as I thought you were if you even _think_ Draco could be behind this” Zabini breathed in her ear. She shivered.

“What?” she mumbled, dumbly.

“That useless asshole, fucking git, always doing things on his own. Granger, you had one job! Keep an eye on him, remember!”

“Well it is not my fault that ferret is the worst person I’ve ever met and he’s dangerous! I needed to tell the others!” she defender herself, a dizzy feeling warming her.

Zabini groaned and Hermione turned to face him, frowning.

“I know it is difficult to find out your best friend is an evil maniac like his father, he has been fooling us with all that trial shit and…”

“Do you really believe he is behind this, Granger?” Zabini interrupted her, but kept walking. She stood there, unable to move.

No.

Yes.

Who cared?

She didn’t know.

She didn’t have a fucking clue.

“Because what I think just happened is that the idiot was trying to protect you and you fell right into his trap”. Hermione shook her head. Zabini’s bright eyes were open, looking right at her. There was truth in them. She swallowed and exhaled, still feeling dizzy.

“But he said…”

“Fucking hell, Granger. If Draco was behind all of this, trust me, you would be dead by now” he hissed. That couldn’t be true. Oh, damn, of course it was true. That stupid ferret.

Hermione wondered why the hell Draco Malfoy was so stupid as to go against his father, who probably despised him, all by himself. She groaned and grabbed Zabini’s hand.

“We have to get to him” she murmured. There it was, that feeling in her chest that made her shiver. Every time she thought of him, and his father, and how cruel that man had been to her. It was intoxicating and she had to fight for his freedom.

Zabini was still and Hermione opened her mouth, furious. They had to hurry up.

“Come on!”

“Are you out of your mind? If Malfoy Father is really behind this, what we need to do is get you to a safe place” he hissed back. Hermione arched an eyebrow and huffed, biting her nail. She opened the box of cigarettes and lit one up.

Breathe.

_just fucking breathe, Hermione._

“Is this a good time for that shit?” Zabini roared, taking the cigarette out of her hands and taking a puff himself. Hermione shot him a furious glance.

“Give that back! I’m thinking of a plan”

“There is no plan, know-it-all. You come with me and you let the Aurors deal with this because this is what they get paid for. Understood?”

Hermione groaned and let Zabini guide her towards the Great Hall. She was silent most of the time, excepting a couple of questions that she knew could not raise any suspicions from his companion.

“When did you start to smoke?”

“What do you care, Granger?”. But Zabini was talkative. He liked to be liked, he loved attention, that drama king. “It was August, before our 5th year. That twat of Malfoy showed me a packet of cigarettes he’d stolen”.

Silence again. Hermione felt her chest clench when he mentioned Malfoy.

“How did Harry know what spell to use?”

“It’s a fucking protecting spell, Granger. He learned it on the run, I guess”. Oh, she remembered. She had taught him how to cast it. She also knew the counter spell.

They were getting close, she remembered. Zabini’s hand was still on her waist, warm, reminding her she had to be alert.

“Did you know a spell like this won’t hold that magic away?” she murmured.

Zabini groaned.

“I’m getting tired of your questions, Granger. I swear to god; you have no idea what you are talking about. This magic has nothing to do with what you’ve seen. It is ancient and wayward”

“You talk about it as if it was alive”

“It _is_ alive. It needs a vessel to be alive. Pureblood, of course. My older brother is the vessel of the family, since my father’s death”. She thought about it. She knew she’d read something about that magic before, but she didn’t know when or where. Hermione always supposed it was some kind of joke.

“But the explosion…”

“Most times, the magic is forgotten. People tend to trap it inside themselves and forget about it. You wouldn’t get it, Granger. It is the kind of magic no one wants to have nothing to do with. The Dark Lord often killed purebloods heirs in order to try and get their ancient magic, many years ago”

“But it didn’t work”

Zabini actually chuckled, and Hermione wondered if, when the mess was over, she could become friends with him. He seemed pretty nice, to be honest.

“Obviously. I still don’t get why Lucius dared to use his. They were not allowed, not in front of the Dark Lord. In fact, I am not sure anyone even knows what that kind of magic is able to achieve” he continued talking, and Hermione could do nothing but listen carefully. She wished she could go to the Library, to inform herself, to bury her nose in old books and find out a solution, an answer.

“But… it is dark”

“Only if you make it dark, Granger” he replied.

“No, Malfoy told me it goes against muggles and…”

“Okay, here is the thing. Imagine a piece of your soul that doesn’t really belong to you”. Zabini had actually stopped on his tracks and opening his hands, mimicking a big hole on the wall. Hermione leaned against the window, in front of him.

They shouldn’t be there.

They had to hide themselves, go to the Great Hall, Harry was going to be so mad at her.

She was hungry.

But she supposed whatever opportunity she got to actually learn something new, she couldn’t ignore it. So, she listened.

“Okay. It is in you, deep down, hidden among all your magic. It belongs to you, because it is yours. But it also belongs to your father, and your grandfather, and all your ancestors”. She nodded. “Well, it was put on the heads of the pureblood British families so long ago no one really knows the reason or the full potential of that magic”.

“What would happen if you married a half-blood?”

“Well, the magic disappears”

“Just like that?”. Hermione wrinkled her nose, pointing at the drawing Zabini had made on the rock wall with his wand. “Such powerful magic and it can’t stand to be inside a non-pureblood vessel? Seems unrealistic.”

“It is magic, Granger” he replied, arching an eyebrow. “There is no logic to it. As I was saying…” he motioned to the hole. “This is the magic. And it is one of the reasons muggleborns are despised. What would happen if purebloods disappeared?”

“But what on earth does that magic do?” she interrupted.

“It can do everything, that’s the whole point! That explosion, it could develop in a tornado or it could tear your skin apart because of your condition!” he was screaming now. “That is why you need to get to a safe place”

“Okay, you said it goes against muggleborns” Hermione continued. But there was still something she couldn’t understand. “That’s bullshit, Zabini. Malfoy already told me it could be a spell against me. But magic doesn’t make a difference between you and me”

“Not normal magic”

“I am as magical as you, even though my parents are muggle. Don’t give me that look, Zabini!”

“What I’m trying to explain and you don’t just let me… will you shut up? Is that Malfoy was bloody right. Maybe not yet, but if Lucius is behind it, it will definitely attack you. Now, let’s go”

But Hermione was ready and she knew what to do. The door was huge and protected by all kind of spells, but as Zabini called for Harry, she began to walk backwards.

Zabini didn’t even turn to her.

“I know what you are trying to do, Granger” he murmured, his hand going to the pocket on his leather jacket. She aimed her own wand at his back. “Granger, let it go. The aurors will deal with it”

She shook her head, a curl falling on her eyes.

“They will kill him”

“You are the one that’s got the best chances to end up dead” he replied. Did he sound worried?

“I’m sorry”

“Granger, Draco will never forgive me if I let you go”

“Well, I’ll never forgive myself if he ends up dead because of his father” she whispered, at last admitting deem down, she freaking cared for that bastard.

She didn’t flinch, she knew her next movement and knew what she had to do.

 

“ _Imperius”_

* * *

 

 

Draco knew what had happened since the moment he heard the explosion, so it was relatively easy for him to wander through the corridors up to the Prefect’s areas. He smirked when he felt the magic around him as he got closer to the door and took his wand out. No matter how hard he’d tried to resist it, that freaking useless magic was calling for him, he was drawn to follow it and be consumed by it and it had been so hard not to curse Granger and disarm her he almost felt proud of his self control.

He teared the curtain down, revealing the door to the Dorms and almost ripped it open. He was furious. That tingly feeling had spread all over his chest, his limbs, his mind. There was nothing he could do to stop it and it scared him to death.

Draco could smell it. He could literally identify the power, the anciency in the air. There were many years of imprisonment and solitude in the ambience, many years of retreatment and memories and hope.

It was as if the magic talked to him, persuading him to fully accept it, to become part of it. It was dark, and shiny and all the things he’d always wanted. Powerful.

_Come here._

_Feel it._

_Dance with me._

Draco shook his head and stepped inside the cold room. He knew, he bloody knew he wasn’t supposed to be there and he already knew he was too weak to even dare to face whatever spell, whatever curse his father had casted.

Still, he didn’t know why he didn’t care at all. Maybe all he was doing was to save them all some time. Draco knew Aurors were about to come, if he was right those kids had done what they were supposed to do. Well, he trusted Blaise enough.

Draco breathed calmly, trying to ignore the claim over the magic, and cleared his throat.

“I know you are here” he murmured to the air, but no one appeared. Draco swore under his breath he would give away all his money if that implied, he didn’t have to be a Malfoy anymore. He approached the center of the room, full of black smoke. It was becoming difficult to breathe, but Draco found the smell nice and reassuring.

It smelled like a lullaby his mother used to sing to him at night, before he fell asleep in a king’s size bed too big for a four-year old.

It smelled like pride. He was proud, so proud of being a Malfoy. He was their dragon, the heir of one of the most ancient houses in the history of magic.

He took a step closer to the origin of the smoke. He couldn’t see anything, but it felt bloody fantastic. Draco reached for it with his hand, smiling. He wanted to take all those feelings and lock them inside him.

All the power.

All the strength.

It had to be _his._

“That’s what happens when we stick together”. Draco jumped, turning his back on the enormous cauldron, his wand aiming right at his father’s chest. He looked much better than the las time he’d seen him.

Was it possible that he looked younger? His hair was slick, almost white, and his factions seemed fuller, nothing compared to what he’d been during the long months confined to the Manor by order of the Dark Lord. Draco raised an eyebrow. His robes were black as pitch and his eyes, well, it was like looking at his own reflection.

Draco noticed his own father didn’t have a wand on him and frowned. Maybe it had been confiscated by the Ministry.

“I thought you were under supervision” he just said, dry. Lucius Malfoy walked towards him, arms open, as if he was about to give him a hug. Draco took a step back. He hadn’t received a hug from his father in his whole life.

“Won’t you come say hello to your father?”. His voice was louder, lower, echoing through the walls. Draco grabbed his wand with strength, his whole body shivering. He heard that song, calling for him, wanting him to just give up and give everything he had inside him.

“What is all of this?” he replied, instead.

“You already know it. It is you; it is me; it is your grandfather and your heirs” he said, with a smirk. Draco shook his head.

“Stop it. I don’t know what you’re waiting for, but your stupid magic won’t hurt anyone. It hasn’t worked yet, it won’t now that the aurors know where you are” he said, his voice too soft to be a threat. Draco was petrified.

It was impossible to pay attention to his father when all he wanted to do was to bury himself in that cauldron and drink the magic. He closed his eyes and opened them again, trying to focus.

He remembered all the history lessons his father had taught him over the years. That disgusting magic hadn’t been used in centuries. Magic forgets, as well as people. That’s why the explosion had occurred, because what his father had planned hadn’t worked.

The magic couldn’t know who to attack. Draco felt as if the air was being sucked from his lungs and swore under his breath.

“It could be you” Lucius said. “You could have made the spell and it could have worked and now all this magic could be yours. Don’t you want it?”

_More than anything in the world._

Draco had it so close. He could kill his father right then and all that power would be his.

“I know what you are thinking, son. All this magic, along with all your Black power…”. Malfoy shot him a questioning glare. What was he talking about? There was his mother…

Oh, fuck.

Who wasn’t the first heir. It had been Bellatrix who should have the Black ancient magic, and now that she was dead and Tonks too, and Teddy Lupin was a half… what was he, anyways?

_Both Malfoy and Black magic could be his._

He shivered at the thought of such power. And then, reality hit him and he found himself surrounded by shadows, the only thing between him and that magic was his father and he had to get rid of him if he wanted to achieve such source of power.

But as soon as he wanted to step closer, his wand flew out of his hand and into his father’s graceful fingers.

“Come on, Draco, get it” he hissed. Draco swallowed the bump in his throat. He really, really wanted to get there and use it. Oh, how much he wished he could erase all bad in the world.

“It is yours if you achieve the task”

“What task?” he murmured. Lucius grimaced a smile and Draco rolled his eyes. That dramatic air ran in the family, for sure.

“You know what task. You know where all the muggles are, son. You just have to send this fabulous little piece of energy over there and watch, enjoy every second of it” he murmured. An image went through his mind. The Great Hall, covered in dust and dark smoke.

There was chaos. Half-bloods were fainting due to lack of air, but muggles were falling down like fleas. They were choking, trying to ask for help, and no one dared touch them so that they couldn’t also end like that.

He saw Granger.

He had already made a choice.

“You are sick”

“I will get a mudblood, Draco. This school is full of them”. Draco stiffened at the insult. That was what the magic lacked, he thought. It couldn’t attack muggle-borns yet because it had been too long.

The power had forgotten its target and Draco was okay with that, as long as no one with at list a quarter of muggle blood came near them. Not until the aurors got there.

_Where the fuck were them, by the way?_

“I’m not letting you do that. Don’t you see, father? It has corrupted you” he spat. “We have lost, again, and you can’t accept it”

Lucius laughed.

“You can’t deny what you are meant to be, son. Bring me a mudblood, let’s get this over with” Lucius snarled. Draco shook his head and wondered what his options were.

He could try to kill his father with his own hands. Not likely to happen.

He could let him kill him. He could use the dark magic on him, if he could just get Lucius to…

That was it.

“Make me” he murmured, a smirk growing on his face. Lucius took a long glance at him and Draco prepared himself for the Cruciatus that never seem to come. He closed his eyes, trying to blind his senses and stop listening to the beating of his own heart, strong against its cage, asking, demanding that power.

It had to wait. He couldn’t take it, not yet, not when Lucius had a wand and was strong as ever.

“I won’t fight you, son” his father said, slowly. Draco was fast and sprinted towards him, not even thinking it more times. His fist met his father’s jaw, with an awful sound, so satisfactory. Draco took his father’s robes and lifted him from the ground, pushing him to a wall.

But that goddamn man just stood there, bleeding his dark shirt. Draco lifted his hand again, ready to the next punch. It had never felt better to punch someone.

“Are you going to let me win, father?”

“You are going to regret this. You are blinded”. Draco aimed for his nose. A crack, a grunt and then, the smoke surrounded him, lifting him from the ground and throwing him against the wall. Draco fell on the floor with a whine, unable to move. His back was on fire and his left hand had at least three broken bones. He got up and spat on the carpet, unable to see anything.

His eyes started watering and Draco swore if that was what Hell was like, maybe it was time to let go. he screamed, squinting for his father’s figure.

“COME ON! COWARD!” he roared. The smoke was all around him, calling him, expecting him to take it. He had to wait. He was going to get it, that was for sure. He felt himself being dragged around the room against the glass of the vitrine, breaking it.

Pieces of glass were on the floor, on his hand, on his face. His shirt was ripened open and he was out of breath, but Draco still stood up and lifted his fists. It was like fighting against nothing. He could not see; he could not sense a thing.

“Have you had enough?” he heard his father’s voice, but he could not see, he could not identify where it came from.

Maybe it came from within him, and he had finally become Lucius Malfoy, as he’d always feared.

_Take me._

Not yet.

_Kill him. Take what is yours._

Not yet, Draco grunted. He didn’t know how to control himself. What if he destroyed the whole castle? What if there was not a single bit of Black magic within him? He couldn’t think much about it, since he suddenly felt how his chest was being ripen open.

It was suffocating, helpless and it hurt so much. He opened his eyes. There he was, his wand in his fingers, aiming at him. Draco didn’t know the symptoms from that course, but it was the worst kind of torture he’d ever felt.

“Changed your mind?” Lucius whispered, taking a step closer to him. Draco hugged his knees and tried to stay focused, breathing heavily. How could he?

There was fire in his veins. His insides were melting and he felt as if he was being skinned alive. Draco bit his lip to stop him from screaming.

It was too much.

He was going to die.

He had to keep on.

 _Just a little bit_ , the magic seemed to tell him, whispering in his ears. How long? He whimpered, falling on the floor. Lucius did not flinch, not once. Draco lifted his head to meet his father’s eyes, but there was nothing human in them. There was only the kind of void you spend your entire life trying to escape from.

“Fa… ther” he breathed, but couldn’t continue. His vision was blurred. How long was he going to last? How long was Lucius going to last?

_Just a bit more_

Not enough. He was so tired. His limbs felt numb, not a part of his body, not anymore. He was going to die in there.

He could only hope he could take his father to Hell with him.

The magic was yelling at him, urging him to get ready. Lucius was paling, sweat on his front. Draco bit a groan as he tried to get up. Another lash of pain hit him on the chest and he clashed against the vitrine again. There was so much blood, was it his?

“Come on…” Draco grunted. Just get tired already, he wanted to scream. He tried to get up once again, but it was useless. He was hopeless.

Then he saw her, hidden behind a courtain. He wanted to roll his eyes, but another wave of the curse ran through him. He couldn’t help it. He screamed.

It was as if someone was breaking his lungs, burning them to ashes. But he couldn’t stop looking at her, not when she was so close to his father. Her wand was out and he wanted to stop her, he really did.

 _Don’t you dare_ , he told her with his eyes. Draco didn’t know if she would understand him. He had to try. Granger had found him and she was the last person who was supposed to be there. Draco groaned again and felt; fucking felt the magic stir.

It had sensed her.

Draco had never once in his life felt so scared. He wasn’t even terrified for his own life. He was doomed since birth. But he prayed, he bloody prayed, in the middle of that agony that seemed not to know an end.

He prayed for Granger. Because she had to get out of here. If his father saw her, they were all lost. Her blood was the real proof of muggle-born people in Howgarts and Draco was too invested in trying to stay awake to even murmur a wandless protection spell around her.

Lucius lifted his hand and Draco was dragged again, crashing against the wall. He hit his head pretty hard, but just swore under his breath. He was so ready to take the power. It belonged to him. He was about to die, but he was going to drag all that useless, stupid dark magic with him.

“Come on, father” he grunted. Lucius flicked his fingers. There it was. He was not going to last much longer, Draco noticed. His whole body was on fire, but his father was taking too much energy in silently cursing him.

He was going down.

He should have seen it coming.

Draco had spent seven years of his lfe antagonizing Hermione Granger and he should have seen it coming. But he didn’t. and he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t do anything but stare at her as she quickly disarmed Lucius, her spell right on his back. Lucius fell on the floor with a groan and Draco felt alive again.

He looked at his arms and breathed heavily. His body was his again, he realized. The curse was over. Granger was already running towards him, her eyes so big and full of worry. He wanted, hoped to stop her before it was too late.

He wanted to.

He was wandless. Helpless.

Lucius was too quick. Granger crashed against the wall across the room, with a little yelp that made Draco’s heart clench. He got up, slowly, at the same time Lucius was cleaning up his robes.

“Well, what do we have here?” he smiled.

Granger lifted her head.

“You are a maniac” she spat, getting up and lifting her wand, throwing a curse that Lucius could easily stop.And Draco ran. He _ran_ to kill him before he even realized who had just come into the dorms was a muggle-born, because Merlin knew what he could do to her if he…

 _It’s her_.

Fuck.

That black smoke had already sensed her and was surrounding them all, thirsty of mudblood. Draco fell onto his father and punched him, hard, once, twice, three times. There was so much blood he knew he could kill him. But the magic was, again, lifting him and Draco screamed, biting and kicking and fighting against an invisible opponent, as Lucius got up.

He was not the most important thin in the room, Draco realized, not when his father’s eyes were scanning Granger, who had an ugly cut on her eyebrow.

“Miss Granger” he saluted. Draco moved again, unable to move. This was all going wrong.

“Let him go” she spat.

“Oh, but he has to step up in the family. As you see, Miss Granger” Lucius took his time pronouncing her name and Draco wanted to vomit. “My son here has to do something for his family. Will you help us?”

Draco wanted to yell at her. She just had to shut her mouth.

“You need my blood. You don’t need him”

Draco swore he could kill her right then.

“You’re right, Miss Granger. Are you going to give it to me? Willingly?”

“NO!” Draco roared, finally finding his voice. He fell on the floor, his face hitting the stone. He stood silently, walking towards his father. “She’s not… she is not the one you want”

“But she is. Look at her, son. She is smart, and a beauty. And the most impure person to ever step on this school” he added, with a grin. Draco was shivering now, too terrified to even move. Granger’s hand was on the floor, too far from them. They were helpless.

“Just let her go. I will do it. I will kill whoever you order me, I will take the bloody magic”

He couldn’t even hear what he was saying. It was a plea. He had to help her get out of here.

“I’m half Black. I’m half Malfoy. I could end them all, for good. But that is my only condition” he continued. Lucius seemed to finally listen to him. “Let her go. there are many of them”

His father wrinkled his nose.

“Have you developed unwanted feelings for this… _thing_?” he murmured. Yes, he wanted to scream. Not unwanted feelings. He was utterly, desperately feeling so much for that girl in front of him, that girl that had been to Hell and back and still found time to come rescue him.

She was everything in the world and he was doomed.

He was lost.

He could only hope to make it alive to tell her he wasn’t worthy of her sole presence.

And then she was running towards him, casting a wandless protection spell upon both of them and kicking Lucius hard.

Next thig he knew, he was being dragged by Hermione Granger down to the Slytherin dorms, each step harder than the previous one. Everything hurt so much. He was so tired. He was fucking tired and he had not killed his father yet.

There was black smoke all around him, claiming him, asking him for permission to take that girl’s life. He shook his head and ran for his life, Merlin knew where that stupid witch, who had dared to face his father for him, was taking him.

He hoped.

_Kill her._

She couldn’t. He couldn’t.

_Take her._

She was looking back at him, her neck bloody. Was she hurt?

_Mark her._

_Blood._

Draco felt about to faint. But he kept on running. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daaa!
> 
> Wow, do I write long chapters. Anyways, comments are always welcome!  
> Thank you so much!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!


	3. She got me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe there’s not a bloody next time, Granger. Seriously, what on Earth were you thinking? You don’t get to care about me, are we clear?”. Hermione frowned. Was he serious?  
> Oh, he was truly serious.  
> “Excuse me?”  
> “I’m so mad at you right now I would kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy it! the angst is strong in this one... Our two dorks might be accepting their own feelings <3

Hermione opened a small cell at the dungeons, out of breath, and closed it with all the strength she had. She didn’t know how long they were going to last. What she didn’t know, either, was that there were a couple of stairs and she fell, graceless, face on the floor, probably scratching her cheek. Fucking perfect. Hermione looked around. Was this something real?

“Really? You Slytherins are out of your mind, did you know? Freaking cells next to the common rooms…” she murmured.

Malfoy was still looking at her. He looked palest than ever, so, so, tired and hurt and she didn’t have a wand to clean him up. He took a couple of steps towards her and she flinched at his touch.

“Granger, listen to me. If we… if I die, I need to tell you something” he was gripping her arm and she fought the urge to scream.

“Don’t! Don’t you _dare_ , Draco Malfoy” she snapped. “I didn’t beat the Dark bloody Lord to die now at the hands of a Dracula wannabe!”

“What the actual fuck is a Dracula?”

“It doesn’t matter! What matters is that you’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met in my whole life” she roared; her breath heavy. “And I’ve lived with Ron and Harry for eight years now. Yet you fucking manage to outstand them, you idiot!”

He didn’t say a word and let her punch his chest. It did feel good, to hit him. She hoped to kill him before his father killed them both, which was likely to happen if they didn’t think of an escape.

She was _so mad_ at him.

“You prat, how dare you come here all by your-fucking-self and face him? Are you out of your mind? I knew you were a dramatic little brat, but I didn’t think you were _this_ “a punch. “fucking…” another punch, harder, against his arm. “Stupid” she breathed, with a groan.

“Where did you learn to swear so much?” he just replied, clearly amused. He had to be out of his mind, finding joy in being locked up by a maniac. His father. A maniac.

“I spent entire summers with the twins… What the fuck? That was not my point. Were you out of your mind? Will you say something?”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, softly, leaning against the cold wall. She coughed and pointed at him with her finger.

“Anything! Why were you such a blind idiot? I could have fucking helped you… and you could be dead by now if I hadn’t come!”

“Oh, now are we talking about being stupid? Let’s talk about you for the last two years, Granger” he roared. Hermione arched an eyebrow. What was he talking about? “Let’s talk about how stupid you’ve been, eh? You let yourself get dragged by Potter and his stupid mission, one who could have gotten you killed more times than I can count. And then, you come here and duel all those bastards who know much more magic than you do…” She snorted. “Don’t give me that look, you might be intelligent but you’re no one next to them, Granger. And you go into that bloody chamber with _Weasley_ out of everyone!”

“Watch it!” she threatened him. There was a bump in her throat. She did not want him to keep talking, not when everything he had to say was so freaking true.

“Weasley, who doesn’t even know how to treat you properly because you are so much better than him in every way, but no, I am not allowed to speak badly about him” he shot back. She slapped him, hard, red fury in her veins.

He was not supposed to say stuff like that. Yet there he was.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being such a good person?”

All the time, she wanted to scream. But it was within her and she had tried not to care so much but she couldn’t.

“Don’t you ever get tired of ruining moments?” she breathed, instead. He smirked.

“You know I’m right, Granger. That’s why you didn’t run away as soon as you saw me last night at the Astronomy Tower. That’s why you still chose to follow me, even though you knew, you fucking knew I was up to something”

“Shut up” she murmured; her eyes locked on his. She couldn’t back away, not now, not when she was so close to finally saying what she hadn’t paid attention to notice. He couldn’t stop talking and all she wanted to do was to scream and keep on screaming and hitting him for being such an idiot, but there she was, at the point of crying.

Draco Malfoy was looking at her like his whole world revolved around her, his grey eyes almost black, and she was so not ready for that. Not right then, when they were about to be murdered, or, at least, she was.

“That’s why you fucking chose to step up to my father, like, seriously, could you be any more stupid? What were you thinking would happen?” he roared, his hands on his hips, his hair a mess and his fucking shirt ripped, showing his scars.

She nodded, unable to speak. She had to focus. All the anger was long gone now, and all she could think about was how the hell she was supposed to escape this situation with Malfoy by her side.

But he couldn’t stop throwing shit words at her and she was done with the whining.

“Was it because you feel like you owe me? Because, let me tell you, Granger. I made myself pretty clear when I told you I don’t need anyone to step up for my mistakes and it was a great mistake to stand between you and that Death Eater…”

Oh, that moment.

“It has nothing to do with that!” she answered, a screaming tone.

“Stop trying to save me!”

“Well, if we get out of this mess alive, I assure you I won’t bother contacting you ever again” she replied, her voice shaky.

“ _Fucking_ great” he bit back. There it was, again, that urge to choke him with her small hands.

“I chose to be here, but you also chose to step up to your father for me, you know. You could have left me there and you could be alive, looking for Harry and saving my ass”

“Oh, great, letting you with my psychotic father. What a plan, Granger” he mocked her, and she punched him again in the arm, harder than ever. He steadied himself with great difficulties, but Hermione couldn’t care less.

“Any plan was better than this one, Malfoy. You couldn’t possibly keep your mouth shut, could you?”

“Seriously? If I hadn’t stepped in, you could be bleeding out on the dorms’ floor” he replied, fast and angry and so full of himself.

She groaned again; thankful the walls were silencing their argument.

“You are supposed to be smarter, Malfoy!”

“I panicked, all right?!”

“Well, I panicked too when I saw him cursing you, so forgive me for caring!” she yelled back, taking a step closer to him.

She was now pressed against his chest, her hands in fists, ready for the next punch. Hermione could punch him a hundredth time and he would still let her because that _bloody idiot_ still thought he _deserved everything bad in his life_.

His eyes were on her face, angry and hot and dangerous, full of fury. And guilt.

“It is the first and last time you try to save me, Granger” he murmured. She shook her head and bit her lip, breathing deeply. “You don’t owe me anything, so please stay away from this mess”

“Next time” she murmured, and Hermione could see a flick of amusement in his eyes. It was brief, but it was something. He really was mad.

“Maybe there’s not a bloody next time, Granger. Seriously, what on Earth were you thinking? You don’t get to care about me, are we clear?”. Hermione frowned. Was he serious?

Oh, he was truly serious. Ass.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m so mad at you right now I would kill you.”

“Well, excuse me, but you’re an ass yourself. You don’t get to decide whether you’re worthy or not of my worry”

“I am not”

“I damn well know you are not!” she yelled back. “Okay, we’ve both made mistakes, now let’s see how to get away with this mess”

“You had a bloody choice!”

“And I chose to help you, okay? Deal with it, Malfoy!”. A punch. Oh, it felt awesome. “Sometimes people do good stuff because they feel like it, you must be surprised, growing up int that hell of a family…”

“I know what a good action is. What I don’t fucking understand is why you did it.”. she rolled her eyes, but he kept on talking, walking towards her and cornering her against the cold wall. He really liked cornering her, didn’t he?

“I don’t have to explain myself. Stop complaining and help me out in here, thinking of a way out”

“This, this will look really bad on my trial” he murmured, his eyes still on her. It was really bothering her, the way he looked at her, as if he was fighting with himself about something.

“Again, with that bloody trial? Is it what all this is about?! I swear to you, Malfoy, I will wok my ass to save you from Azkaban if that’s what really bothers you, but we have a lot of problems right now! We might not get to Ministry alive!”

He ran a hand through his hair and Hermione really wished she was the one burying her hands in that hair. She blushed.

“I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times to be worthy, to fight against the dark magic. It calls me, you know? It calls me and it is ordering me to choke you right now and it is making this so much harder than what I thought”.

Was he crying? He seemed like he was suffering and Hermione really wished she could stop worrying about him.

“But you had to be the stubborn know-it-all, it had to be you”

“What…?” she murmured, but Malfoy seemed to be talking to himself.

“If you die tonight, it will be because of me. And that, I won’t be able to live with it. I thought maybe the dark magic would kill me by now, and… I had a plan; I had the perfect plan.”

She said nothing.

“If I killed him or if I let him consume all his magic, it would all pass onto me. It goes this way, with purebloods families. The magic needs a recipient and I am the only other viable option. So, when my father’s magic was spent, which was likely to happen since those ancient spells require so much energy… it would be me”

“You could die” she murmured. When he looked back at her, Hermione swore to herself she could never get over how sad he looked, how utterly destroyed. She wanted to assure him everything was going to be okay, even though that was a lie.

“That was the point. If I die, the magic dies with the last Malfoy alive. No more fucking problems. No more pureblood shit. No more purifying a muggle-born’s blood once a month and…”

Hermione felt her heart sinking. He really was being honest. Brutally honest. He seemed so lost, so tired. Draco Malfoy was ready to kill himself in order to save them all and her stepping in had crashed all his plans.

“But, again, you had to mess it all. I knew what my father was up to. He saw you, a muggle-born witch so full of herself. It was perfect and it had ruined my plan. He was almost spent, Granger, I had it all under control and then… You had to come in” he snarled. Was he blaming her? Hermione didn’t know what to say, what to think.

He was definitely sobbing. Oh, God. She stood there, still as a rock, wondering whether she should hug him or hit him to make him react.

“Was I supposed to let you die?”

“Of _fucking_ course. Nothing ties you to me, you know! You should be selfless and let me kill my family so that the whole fucking world is safe!”

“No way”

“And now I’m really doomed. I hoped, I really hoped I could die all by myself, finally at peace, facing the fact that I admire you in every imaginable way and I want to fucking bury my face in that _abominable_ hair of yours, and you could be alive and have a decent life being a Minister or whatever you wanted to be! But nope, you had to ruin it. Again, you’ve sacrificed yourself, again! For me, a bastard who is…”

“Basically, a shit person” she finished for him. He agreed, silently, but then Malfoy kept on talking.

“You are so wrong, Granger, because I’ve seen with my own eyes the way you looked at me, as if I was worth being saved. You’re _so wrong_ , Granger” he repeated, almost like a plea. As if she didn’t already know what happened in her mind wasn’t ethical, or rational, or logical. She shook her head and met his stare. “Stop with that look! You know who you are, you know who I am. You are above me on so many levels I…”

“Maybe I saved you because it was the right thing to do!”

“Well don’t you ever…” he began, but Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him, hard, stepping out of that little space he had confined her. She walked towards him, pushing him again.

“Or maybe it was because I like your bloody face, all right?”

“What?”

“Maybe…” she breathed and continued yelling at him. “Maybe I don’t care about all the bad stuff you’ve done and maybe I’m terrified of what I feel right now, and I’m confused, I’m angry, I’m definitely _starving_ and I might like you!” she finally admitted.

He was shaking his head, furrowed brows and an open mouth. But she had finally opened herself and she was not shutting up.

“You’re the only one who put words to my feelings and you’ve been such an ass I should be hating you and cursing into next week, yet here I am. You know what? I also wish I hadn’t said a word and I really wish I could stop being _attracted_ to you because it is really annoying!” she screamed. “And distracting! And it is so wrong to look like _that_ …” Hermione pointed at him. “…when we are about to die! It should be illegal, Malfoy, illegal! So, yes, I wish I could shut it all off and life could be much easier! So fucking easy, Malfoy! But here I am, doomed to die because I’ve developed feelings for a ferret because all of a sudden, he’s decided to be a decent human being and save me and…” she stopped for a second to find him looking at her as if she was a fucking ghost. She frowned.

“I…” he began, but she was so done. Hermione didn’t even think she was embarrassing herself, which she definitely was. It felt so good to explode, much better than hitting him.

“No, now you let me talk! We are probably going to die in here, because you were so nosy you couldn’t fucking shut up until I told you the reason I interrupted that curse! Well, here it is, Malfoy! You are very welcome!” she took air. “Don’t look at me that way, Draco Malfoy! I am so mad at you; you don’t even know it! How dare you?!”

He seemed as if he’d been punched right in the face. Hermione was shaking in rage herself.

“It was okay to think you were stupid enough to face your father on your own. But you _had_ to tell me your plans and how you were decided to sacrifice yourself, hadn’t you?! And now I feel like I’m about to burst because I can’t stand to even be close to you! I really, really, really hate you right now!!”

Was he laughing? Was that a smile?

“I’m about to punch that smile off your face, Draco Malfoy. I could kill you right now” she groaned.

“And” she added. “And I don’t really want you to mock at me because I know who I am too, all right? And you would always see me as a filthy… Stop with that face! This is not funny! You are…”. But she couldn’t continue because Draco bloody Malfoy had taken her face in his hands and was lifting it towards his.

She felt his breath against her temple and shivered, unable to move. She really was getting to a point, wasn’t she? Hermione had suddenly forgotten everything she was supposed to say.

“For a smart witch, you really are so oblivious” he murmured, his hot breath too close to her. She dared to look at him, but his eyes were closed.

“That was not supposed to happen” Hermione whispered, but let him talk, his forehead against hers. She was shivering and she was terrified.

“And right now, I can’t even think of death because you had to show me what a future we could have and… I know, Granger, I know it wouldn’t be a pretty one but I’ve had this feeling I want to kiss you since… I don’t even know when it started, so forgive me for freaking out when you have just…” he murmured and brushed his lips against her temple. She felt that tightening feeling in her chest again and took a step back.

“If you put yourself in danger one more time, Malfoy, I will kill you myself. Stop trying to be the hero”

“It’s the fucking right thing to do! I want to do it! I want to be worthy; you know! Look at you, all brave and Gryffindor and fucking, annoyingly perfect!” he roared. Hermione resisted the urge to step on him and snog him senseless because… Hermione frowned. Why wasn’t she supposed to jump in his arms and finally kiss him?

Oh, right.

They were trapped in a fricking dungeon and all that.

“It is okay if you _want_ to do it! It is okay I know you want to change! It is enough to me; don’t you see it! _You_ are enough” she exhaled, relaxing her shoulders. A tear fell down her cheek and it had been so long since she’d cried, she was so scared.

Malfoy saw it too and stopped on his continuing walking around the small room, suddenly unable to talk. They were both breathing heavily. Hermione thought that was the moment he should come closer and finally kiss her, but of course the moment had to be interrupted.

Because she suddenly saw the door opening and a thick smoke entered the room, blinding her. She was unable to breathe, unable to move.

Her legs failed her and she didn’t see Malfoy running towards her, screaming. She could only nod once and pray, pray for a quick death before the world turned black.

 

* * *

 

Draco was able to catch her before her head hit against the tile. She was suddenly so, so cold. Draco reached for her temple and brushed the hair from her eyes. She had a worried look on her face but was unconscious and Draco was petrified.

_There she is._

Draco looked up. Granger was in his arms and it would be so easy to snap her neck and take her blood. He shook his head. That was exactly what his father wanted him to do. He had found them.

It had found her, now curling itself around Granger’s body. He wanted to fight it, stop it from getting so close to her. How could he fight something that didn’t even have a body?

Granger was paler than ever. Her dark skin was as cold as the floor and her breathing was slow, as if she was in a trance. Draco swore. She was the one with the plans. She was the one who had it in her, the bloody hero spirit. He was nothing.

He could not face that temptation and he could definitely not defeat his father, not without a wand, not with that idiot Gryffindor laying on the floor. Who knew what was happening inside her? Had the magic finally recognised her blood? Was it killing her, torturing her?

Draco had so many questions.

_Take me._

“Oh, here you are, my dear son”. He could not see his father, but he could definitely sense him, his presence all around the cell. Draco got up, slowly, Granger in his arms. She instinctively curled herself in his chest and for once, for one bloody time, Draco thanked the War because he could not be able to carry her if she wasn’t so skinny.

“If we get out of this one, Granger, I’m going to feed you until you look like that stupid painting that guards your tower” he murmured in her ear, before taking the stairs and getting her outside the cell. The magic followed him, screaming at him. It was taking so much effort not to kill her, when he had her in his arms, almost lifeless. It could be so easy.

Just a small cut on her wrist and then the magic could do the rest. He could make it seem as if it was unintentional.

_Do it._

He could, in fact. He turned left. He didn’t know where he was going, he had no idea what to do but Draco knew he had to get Granger to a safe place before trying to stop whatever he was facing.

Draco couldn’t get her to the Great Hall, though. It was full of muggle-borns, half-bloods and fucking Potter. He thought he could be selfish and let him deal with the problem as he’d done for his entire life.

But Granger’s face was cold against his chest and it was all his fault and she had told him _he was enough_ but right then, he couldn’t agree with her because it was all a mess and it was all because of him.

He had to take care of it.

He had to do it on his own.

So Draco laid her down on the floor, carefully, and wiped a tear from her cheek. She was completely out and Draco was fucking scared, but still, he tried to hide her behind a column and he took one of the clips that held her hair away from her face in his hand.

It had a pointy end.

He stuck it in his forearm and slashed his skin, a small cut over the faded Dark Mark. That magic was looking for muggle blood, but it was also looking for a recipient.

It had to be him, he thought. He knew his father was around, looking for him. But the magic was faster and they were both spent. Draco was tired, hurt, too weak to perform a wandless spell, but he was young and had been a healthy boy.

Azkaban hadn’t treated his father very well. He had to be the strong one and he had to steal the magic. It was his, after all. He was the only heir. He sliced his wrists, too, dark blood dripping on the floor.

The dark smoke turned greenish, suddenly smelling him, realizing he was there. He prepared himself for the shock, the hit, he didn’t even know what to expect. Maybe Lucius had a stronger call to the magic, wherever he was.

Maybe it was all a trap and the magic would reject him.

Maybe it would destroy him, but he would take it with him.

He opened his bloody arms and shut his eyes, fiercely.

_He hoped._

And everything turned white.


	4. Hold me while you wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Then why do I feel like…”
> 
> “Like what?” she breathed.
> 
> “Like I’ve somehow failed miserably at being a hero for once and I’ve disappointed you in every possible way” he finally said. She bit her lip.
> 
> “Fucking Malfoy with your gift for speeches” she groaned.

“Malfoy”. Draco groaned. Everything hurt. He couldn’t open his eyes. Was he in Heaven? Hell? Where the fuck was he? “Malfoy!”. Another time. He couldn’t recognise that voice. It was sharp, deep and so full of impatience.

“Malfoy, wake up, for fuck’s sake”. Draco tried to move his hand, but his arm wasn’t responding. He knew he was laying on a bed, a very comfortable bed. Maybe he really was in Heaven. But why didn’t the voice shut up?

“Drake, if you don’t wake up right now, I will kill you” another voice murmured in his ear. It was broad and smooth, as if he was singing. He recognized that one.

_Zabini._

_Blaise._ He was not dead, after all. What had happened, then? He was so hurt, so tired. He could sleep for decades. But, still, he tried to open his eyes.

There was so much light Draco was convinced for a second, he was, indeed, dead. But when his eyes got used to the bright room, he could focus on the face of his friend. There he was. He was Blaise, he thought. He had not lost his memories or something like that. He was his best mate and he had dark skin, as always, and mischievous eyes, and an impolite white shirt that was ripen and dirty and stained of… was it blood?

“Oh, thank Merlin” Blaise groaned, before jumping onto him and hugging Draco tightly. Draco whined, voiceless, and Blaise backed up, quickly.

“I was going to lose my shit, mate” Blaise continued talking, but Draco’s eyes were focused on Potter, who was eyeing him with a concerned look on his face. So that was him, who had yelled at him. He also looked like he had just gotten out of Hell. He had, hadn’t he?

He was Potter. Hadn’t Potter killed the Dark Lord not too long ago?

Draco said nothing. He wondered whether he still had a voice or not.

“I know you’ll be wondering what happened” Potter began. Draco frowned. What was he talking about? What had exactly happened? He didn’t remember anything, besides the Battle, and then afterwards.

He did remember the Battle had ended. He had almost died, a couple of times. But the Dark Lord was dead, wasn’t he? Then why did Potter have that weird look? He was so ready to punch those glasses out of his face, Draco grunted. If only he could move without feeling sore.

He remembered almost everything. There was him and then there was a big explosion and he was convinced it had something to do with him.

He breathed quickly and recognized the signs of panic controlling his body.

His mind was slow and he was sure something was missing. Why couldn’t he remember it?

_“You want everyone to hate you? That’s fine with me”_

_“You’re a bloody snake and you just fucked with my mind!”_

 “Okay, so, I don’t know where to start” Potter began. Draco shook his head “So. You remember you had some crazy shit magic because of your Pureblood status, don’t you?”

He frowned again. He did not remember that. That magic was almost dead and he did not care for it at all, since it was his father who…

_Father._

His father was in Azkaban.

Maybe not.

_“Oh, here you are, my dear son”_

“You destroyed it” Potter murmured, waking Draco up from his thoughts. He looked at Blaise, as if to look for his opinion, his reality. Maybe Potter had no idea how this thing worked, but Blaise did. That Italian blood of his was also full of magic, he knew it, and that kind of magic was not supposed to be destroyed.

But Blaise’s eyes were kind and said the truth. It was impossible, though, he thought. He tried to stand in the bed, but his limbs were powerless, as if all the strength he had (not much, if he had to be honest with himself) had abandoned him.

“Hey, mate, why don’t you just take it easy?”

Draco opened his mouth, as if to say something. He was about to ask it, but all of a sudden, he had forgotten what he was about to say. He sensed his mind was tired, and it was fucking frustrating.

He could deal with his body hurting.

His mind, though, his brain, it couldn’t be half functioning. He was smart, he was the most intelligent Slytherin in years and he felt like an eight-year-old. He couldn’t remember anything, he couldn’t even begin to process that he was in St. Mungo and he couldn’t, for his life, move a finger.

He wanted to punch someone. Preferably Potter. He was standing too close, Draco thought. And he was telling him a stupid tale about him, the cockroach of Hogwarts, destroying his family’s ancient magic.

Bullshit.

“Okay” Potter was insistent but Draco couldn’t talk, couldn’t yell at him, and couldn’t order him to _stop talking_. “You had gone into some kind of trance, when I got to the corridors. And then I felt it, it was you. It was as if something was being pulled from me, scratched from my heart and at first I didn’t know if…” Draco caught Blaise rolling his eyes.

“Bollocks, Potter, you are a poet…”

“Shut up! As I was saying, I didn’t know what it was, but when I tried to cast a spell to disarm your father…”

“Who was wandless at the time, as well as you” Blaise pointed out.

“Well, there was no magic in me. Like, at all. It was as if you were absorbing all the magic in the room, not only Malfoy’s”

“McGonagall says both sides of your family’s magic bonded together. They skipped Lucius’ call and went straight to you. Apparently, you cannot hold that much magic in you, so when your body released it…” Blaise continued, lowering his usual grave and strong voice. “Well, how would I say it?”

“The whole corridor exploded” Potter finished for him. Blaise nodded, silent. “I can’t believe you don’t remember any of this, Malfoy, because it was…”

“Fucking insane, mate. It was bloody glorious, all light and stones and your father was screaming, it was bad luck a rock didn’t fall on his head”. Draco eyed him and he swallowed. “Too soon? Anyways, you kind of fainted, after all, but what I don’t really know is what happened before that, so you could use that precious, blonde head of yours and try to remember anything, perhaps?” he finished, and Draco squinted with his eyes.

Potter was serious as ever. Why didn’t he remember his father?

“You’ll need time, but I’m afraid we don’t have it. Not anymore, I guess. The trial should be tomorrow, and you have been called to testify against your father” Potter said.

Maybe it was the fact politics and law were some subjects he really enjoyed, or maybe it was the fact that, apparently, he was an expert on trials (nice thing to be an expert about) but Draco found his voice.

“Are they trying me too?”. His voice sounded harsh, tired, as if he’d screamed for ages. Maybe he had. He didn’t remember.

“They might” Potter nodded. Blaise rolled his eyes, again, looking outside the window. As if he expected anything else, it was raining. Draco sighed.

“What charges?”

“I don’t know? I’m not an expert here, Malfoy, but you were about to go to a trial for collaborating with Voldemort. You might be accused of trying to help your father, he is smart and will try to turn it around so that…”

“So that he drags me to hell with him” Draco finished. That, that was typical in his family. It was all or nothing. He didn’t stand a chance. Nobody was there to witness his and his father’s apparent fight, and he couldn’t remember any of it.

“What about Veritaserum?” Blaise asked, all of a sudden. Draco groaned.

“There are no memories, Blaise. I won’t be able to tell the truth if I don’t remember it” he murmured, and Potter swore silently.

Draco tried to think, tried to look for a solution. The Wizengamot was going to be ruthless. He knew it. They were not happy to have let him go, in the first place, and he had actually destroyed a part of the school with his magic. Did that mean he was now magicless? What the hell did that mean? What had happened between his father and him? Blaise had said it had something to do with the ancient magic. He knew about it. He also knew it was best if it stayed forgotten, forbidden. No one had ever been able to control it, and certainly, it wasn’t his father who had been the first one to try.

His great-grand-father, a century ago. Died in flames.

His gran-father, before him. 19th century. Died of a heart attack, after having killed his mother.

He had many options. Also, on his mother’s side, Blacks were not known for sanity, that was a truth. But he had never heard of a successful ritual to control that magic.

“What are you thinking?” Potter murmured.

“My father must have been after something” he began, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming up together. That magic was unlimited. He had wanted to cast a powerful spell and he needed Draco’s help, but why his?

Lucius was a very capable man. He was strong and he definitely was more advanced in dark magic than his son. Draco frowned. Why was he in Hogwarts, then, having escaped from his solitary? What was so important in Hogwarts that he had to go back, just two days after the Great Battle for it?

“What are you thinking?” Potter asked him. Draco looked at him, furious.

“You know, Potter, I’m trying to think. It is already hard because I don’t fucking remember a thing, so don’t. make. It. Worse”

It was hard. It was so hard, his head hurt and every time he tried to think of that explosion something in his mind shot him a lingering pain all over his body.

Maybe he was cursed? It could happen, Draco thought. Dark magic was a bitch. He thought again of his father. If he could talk to him…

Well, he couldn’t even get up from that bed, so it was highly unlikely. Draco swore under his breath. What was at Hogwarts that was so important for Lucius?

What was it, that he had risked it all to get it?

But a pounding on the door brought him back to the reality as Blaise approached the door. He opened it, just slightly, but Draco had already seen that abominable red head, so he took the time to roll his eyes at Weasley, who quickly entered the room.

“Okay, we gotta do something” he breathed, eyeing Draco. Good Lord, did he look like shit. His freckled face was dirty and full of cuts, as if a whole mirror had fell onto him. Draco arched an eyebrow.

“What happened?” Harry muttered, as Blaise looked outside the widow, again. Draco saw his friend go rigid; his eyes wide open.

“Bloody hell”

“Ron! What happened!” Harry all but muttered. Draco coughed a little, sitting on the plain, white bed. Weasley just couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Well, the press is here. They want to know why Malfoy hasn’t been judged yet”

“Fuck them all. Why do they care? They won’t judge him until Draco makes his statement” Blaise snapped. “Nobody fucking knows what happened in that corridor, Weasley, so let them wait. Dissuade them, Merlin, quickly! I don’t want them up here asking questions to this amnesic fucker” he barked at Weasly, pointing at Draco’s chest. He huffed in response.

“How am I supposed to do this?”

“Gods, you’re a pureblood. You’ve dealt with reporters before” Blaise shot, looking at Weasley upside down. He grimaced a face.

“May I recall you, Zabini, that I am a renegade from that pureblood society?”

“Oh, right, sometimes I forget about it”

“Enough!” Potter interrupted. “I don’t care about the press, don’t you see? Without Malfoy’s memories, Lucius can be freed. We all know what he did, but we have no fucking clue, the magic is gone…”

“Wait a minute. I couldn’t have destroyed the magic. It had to be still in me, hadn’t it? Potter, magic can’t be destroyed, it’s basic level history. Where the fuck is that magic?”

“Well, as I have already told you… you exploded, Malfoy. You were so full of light and then everything turned white. We all thought the whole castle was going down. So no, I have no bloody idea where that magic is”

Draco closed his eyes. He did remember an explosion, a huge light. What happened before that?

Why was Granger’s face in his mind?

_“Or maybe it was because I like your bloody face, all right?”_

“Granger”

“What?” both Potter and Weasley snapped. Draco looked at them, confused.

“Where’s Granger?”

“None of your business, ferret” Weasley began, but Potter shushed him, sitting on the table next to Draco. Draco tried to lift himself from the bed. He did remember. He was with Granger. Why was he with Granger? She hated him.

Didn’t she?

“You were with Hermione, weren’t you?” Potter murmured. Draco nodded, slowly, and Blaise swore.

“I bloody knew it”

“What are you talking about? You knew she was with him? You could have told us, you traitor!!” Weasley screamed. Blaise punched the wall and turned to him, ready to punch him, but Weasley was fast enough and caught him.

“She’s my fucking best friend and she was found covered in ash and you _COULD_ HAVE SAID SOMETHING!”

“You were with her. It was your responsibility” Potter accused Zabini, but Draco knew he was up to something. Maybe he was also trying to remember.

“Wait” Blaise began. “You… you told Granger it was a spell. Your father, Malfoy Sr., he wanted to cast the _Mudblood_ spell”. Draco wished those words made something in his mind snap, but nothing happened. They echoed in his mind.

_Mudblood._

_Mudblood._

_Mudblood._

“What’s that spell?” Potter wondered.

“She fucking _Imperioed_ me” Blaise continued. “Bloody Granger, I knew she was a sneaky Slytherin after all. That’s why I don’t know when I lost her. That’s why she was there”

_Mudblood._

_Mudblood._

_Mudblood._

“Like I said” Weasley interrupted. “No time! If we have no memories, then we’d better ask Hermione and get this _done_ ” he said, to which Draco actually flinched. Where was Granger?

“We are _not_ asking Hermione” Potter snapped.

Where was Granger? Draco was all of a sudden incredibly nervous. He wanted, he wanted to remember. If he had been with Granger maybe she was sick, or hurt. Maybe he had hurt her.

“She has the answers”

“She does not want to talk! And I’m not getting her involved” Potter said, and it was final, since Weasley finally shut up.

“The Mudblood spell is almost impossible to cast” Blaise began telling Potter, who was listening, as if he understood something, which Draco was sure he did not. “It seems impossible Malfoy Sr. could have casted it, considering he was sick”

“What if Malfoy did it?” Potter interrupted, pointing at him. Draco arched an eyebrow. He couldn’t have. He didn’t know, did he? He hadn’t been trained in controlling that dark magic. He supposed he never had to, since The Dark Lord was stealing it from them and all that.

“I can assure he didn’t” Blaise answered.

“How can you be so sure?” Weasley insisted, eyeing Malfoy with suspicion. Draco rolled his eyes.

“I am as sure as you were of your friend here Potter not being the one who was making all the killings back in second year” Blaise snarled. He did have a point.

“Okay, fine. You know Granger has the answers. I’m not letting my man here face a punishment for something I’m sure he didn’t do, so go _ask her_ , Potter” Blaise murmured. Draco coughed. Why was nobody telling him where the Hell she was?

“I am not risking her mental health…”

“I don’t fucking care! If she was there, she is part of the case and you won’t be able to protect her. You’d better get your answers before the Wizengamot does”

“I need to see her” Draco murmured. Only Potter heard her.

“Cool, Malfoy. Not happening”

“She... she has something to do with it”

“Do you remember her?”

“No, but…”

“Then you are _not_ seeing her.”

Draco then tried to remember something else. He did try. And he found out nothing but a feeling something wrong had happened. Maybe Potter was right and he and his father had tricked Granger. He knew the basics of the spell. It could not act without knowing what the magic had to attack.

He remembered blood. Was it Granger’s? Why was she so keen to go to him? Draco opened his mouth and closed it again. Potter was arguing with Zabini and Weasley was just accusing him of something he could not listen.

He might be doomed, after all.

All those years hating the way she moved, the way she surpassed him in every way possible. He might have tried to kill her, after all.

“Did the spell work?” Draco murmured. Weasley scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Of course, it didn’t fucking work, Malfoy. You’d be dead by now. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t tricked Hermione. She was bloody ready to give up her blood, her life so that you could… now that I think about it, I don’t know where I wanted to go. oh, right, you’re scum”

Draco decided to ignore it.

“But there was blood. There was so much blood. I do remember the blood. It was Granger’s, wasn’t it?” he ventured. Potter raised an eyebrow.

“That’s it. Come on, Malfoy.”

“That’s all I know. There was blood, and there was my father”. He remembered the flash of platinum blonde and then blood dripping onto the floor. “There was a thick smoke, it was black, greenish. It covered us and then…”

Light. Then everything turned so bright…

Draco wanted to die right there.

“Please, let me see her. If she was hurt, _because_ of me, then…”

“There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near…”

“You are not her bloody bodyguard…”

“I’ll go” Potter snapped. “I’ll go ask Hermione. You’d better be able to stand when I come back” he murmured to Draco before exiting the room. Weasley swore to the ceiling and Blaise took Potter’s seat, next to the bed.

 

“Hermione”. Hermione actually jumped and turned around. Harry was leaning on the door frame, a worried look on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thank Merlin, Harry. I’ve been waiting for ages. The press is here, you know. They wouldn’t let me ask the medics and…”. Harry cupped her face with his hands and Hermione flinched. What was wrong?

She had been stuck in that empty, white room for hours and nobody told her what was going on. She just wanted to know if Malfoy was okay. Merlin, that man… her heart skipped a beat at the thought of him, so full of tubes and his blond hair all messy and full of ash. She had gone crazy, didn’t want anyone to touch him but her. Then they had shot her a calming spell and next thing she knew; she was in that room.

Alone.

Hermione hugged Harry fiercely, trembling to the bone. She just wanted to get out of there. Harry pulled back, biting his lip, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Please tell me”

“Hermione, we’ve been through so much, I really don’t think it’s right to ask you…”

“What? Harry, what are you talking about? Where’s Malfoy?”

“He’s… he’s still undisposed” he murmured, not meeting her eyes. Hermione scoffed.

“You are lying, Harry James Potter. He’s awake, isn’t he?”. She tried to shove him and go past him towards the door, but Harry caught her before she could reach the handle. “Let go, Harry! I need to...! I will hex you!”. She tried to bit his arm, but he was stronger than her, pulling her back and throwing her onto the bed.

“You can’t see him, ‘Mione! He is under investigation; he and his father will be tried tomorrow and…”

“He didn’t do it. For God’s sake, Harry, Malfoy had nothing to do with it” she breathed, to which Harry actually stopped trying to hold her.

“What?”

She turned around and wiped a curl from her face, breathing heavily. Harry looked confused and Hermione wanted to get out, get out, get out.

 “Ask him! Ask him, Harry! He’s not a bad person, he really is not” she spat. Harry shrugged, sitting in front of her on the bed.

“He does not remember it!” Harry screamed. Hermione went still. Did he not…? He didn’t remember.

_He doesn’t remember._

“What exactly doesn’t he remember?” she asked, trying not to show how scared she was.

“Well, the whole dark magic thing is a blur…”

_He doesn’t remember anything._

“But…”

“And then he has some ideas about what could have happened but nothing solid enough to show at the trial. He’s screwed. Lucius Malfoy is going to drag him down, that’s for sure, and Malfoy can not articulate a complete sentence about what happened back there”

“You could have fucking asked me before” she accused him.

“We didn’t know where you were!”

“I was with him, the whole fucking time, until I fainted! It’s because he’s a Malfoy, isn’t it?”

“His father tried to kill all the muggleborns in Hogwarts, Hermione”

“You wanted to kill him!!”

“Well, you used the _Imperius_ on Zabini, Hermione, so nobody here is not guilty” he accused back. She took his hand.

“Let me see him, Harry. Let me see him, let me speak at the trial and…”

“No. you are not speaking in front of the Wizengamot. No way”

“They are my memories! I am not giving them away and then stepping back…”

“Hermione, I said…”

“I am the only one who has those memories! We are getting Malfoy’s back; I still don’t know how but… Don’t, don’t look at me that way, Harry, I am getting involved. You’ve had enough shit to deal with”

“I said…”

“You are not an auror, Harry, you are not in charge here” Hermione snapped.

“Don’t you know when it’s time to step back?” he shot back.

“Lucius Malfoy tried to use my blood for an ancient spell and… Man, how have you not asked me before?”. She was so angry.

“We were trying to keep you outside this mess”

“Cool excuse, Henry. I still hate your guts”

“Keep talking, Hermione! What happened with the spell? What did he want to achieve?”

“Then let me see him!!” she screamed back. Harry sighed and Hermione wanted to scratch his face.

“Do you feel weird?” he finally asked. What was he talking about? “Do you feel as if you were under… a spell, or something?”

“Hell, Harry, the medics already checked me. Do you even think I would be able to tell if I was under a spell? That’s the point of it, you know, your body is controlled but you don’t realize it and…”

“Hermione! Are you, have you been?”

“Of course not!!!!” she screamed. “Malfoy would never do that, and Lucius was wandless, he was too weak to cast anything else…”

“Fuck, I hate to do this, but we need your memories”

“Let me talk to him first. Maybe if he sees me, everything snaps. I was half awake the whole time he faced his dad, my memories are not trustable”. Harry made her look at him, his green eyes shining with strength. Hermione felt the urge to cry.

If her shattered mind was all that stood between Malfoy going to Azkaban and him being free, well, they were screwed.

“Please, Harry. Is he at least okay?”. God, she wanted to see him. He shook his head.

“I’ll get a vial, Hermione. I want you as far from this as possible”

“Please, please. I’ll give them to you, I swear. But I need to know. He let me behind a fucking column and I couldn’t see properly, and then…” A shiver. She remembered it. Blood. So much blood, red and fresh and _his_. “Is he awake? When you took him out, he was critical, I heard…”. She didn’t even notice she had started crying. “Nobody’s been able to tell me anything, and it was so bright I didn’t see what attacked him. Harry, he was bleeding in front of me and…”

Harry took her tiny hand in his rough ones and hugged her lightly.

“He is okay. Amnesic, but stable. He will be able to walk properly when the calming spells disappear. He is frustrated, for sure”

“He didn’t do it, Harry. He faced his dad; he was ready to die so that the magic died with him… that’s…” she sobbed. “That’s what he told me. That magic was calling him, urging him to take me and kill me, and he didn’t. he didn’t, Harry”. She was crying so much. She couldn’t stop.

“I’ll try my best to get him out”

“He’s changed. He wanted to sacrifice himself. For _me_ ” she added, and Harry smiled, burying his hand in her curly mess of hair. She sniffed and blinked several times, still sitting on the white bed.

“I don’t know what happened to you two in there” he murmured. She shrugged. Neither did she. She had no fucking clue. But she felt that ache in her heart when she thought of Malfoy.

“He is good. Well, as good as someone who’s fought in a War” she whispered. “As good as we’ll ever get to be, I don’t know. Maybe it was fucking late, but he did fight his father. I’ll give you those memories, Harry, but I need you to let me see him” she said, her tone firm.

He just nodded.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”. Hermione just smiled, between her cries.

 

* * *

 

 

When Potter entered through that door, Draco admitted the image was not nice. He was, at last, standing, giving small steps all around the room, while Blaise and Weasley laid shoulder to shoulder in his bed, discussing about who was the best player Hogwarts had ever had.

“You did not see Mcgonagall, Weasley, I’m telling you…”

“Oh, did you, Zabini? I didn’t know you were a hundred years old”

“I’m right, you know it. Not even Potter himself could…”

“Okay, my brother was even offered a…”

“Okay, stop it” Potter interrupted them and they jumped out of the bed. Draco rolled his eyes. They hadn’t heard him. Draco just stood there, waiting. What had Granger told him? Maybe she didn’t want to give her memories. Maybe she was still controlled by his father. Or she might be dead.

“You two, out” Potter murmured. Weasley arched an eyebrow.

“Are you serious? Harry, what…?”

“Trust me on this, Ron. _Out”_

It all happened too quickly. One second, Potter was yelling at him to _be careful, I swear, Malfoy, I will kill you_ and Draco couldn’t even think of a proper answer because he didn’t have idea what was going on.

The next second, he was all by himself in the room, the door slightly open. He heard noises from outside, shouting and beeps and then, without even having time to process it, there was Granger, in front of him.

Draco looked at her, all dressed in grey. Her hair was loose, falling in thick curls over her shoulders, her face fuller, tan and radiant. She looked tired, he thought. Didn’t they all?

She closed the door, slowly, not taking her eyes off him. Draco breathed, as if he had forgotten how to, and opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

 _I don’t remember you,_ he wanted to say.

 _God, how much I want to kiss you._ Which was weird, and unpleasant, because he had no idea where this idea came from.

“I don’t have a lot of time” she whispered.

And then she moved, and Draco couldn’t stop her.

She was hugging him so tightly he actually thought his ribs might break. But, Salazar, did it feel good. He buried his head in her thick curls and just breathed her scent. He had read so many romantic novels about how a significant other smelled like roses, like lavender and honey and Draco could confirm it was all crap.

Granger smelled like nothing. Absolutely nothing. Clean soap, maybe lotion. She smelled like redemption and maybe like forgiveness, but he hadn’t mastered the art of reading her and he might never get that blame out of his body.

He just didn’t understand why she felt so _home_ in his arms. She pulled back, just a little, her arms still locked around his middle, and looked up at him. Her eyes were full of worry, and good, and all kinds of things that made his stomach twitch in every different way.

“I am so freaking happy you are okay” she exhaled, finally, after staring at him for two minutes straight. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. He was so frustrated he didn’t remember what had happened with her.

Then he remembered Weasley’s words.

“I am so sorry, Granger, I don’t know how I did it, but…”

She frowned. Even that looked good on her. He continued talking, trying to get out of her embrace. If she was still under… God, that was low even for him. He was going to kill his father as soon as he got out of there.

“I swear, you have to give them those memories, Granger. I will face whatever punishment I get for tricking you but, please, please don’t let my father get away with this” he pleaded. She crossed her arms on her chest and Draco wanted to punch himself.

“ _Tricking me_? That’s what you think this is about?” she asked, cautious. He shook his head, then nodded. “I’m gonna need you to be a bit more specific, Malfoy” she snapped.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Granger. You’ve been checked, there’s no trace of the spell on you and… I am locked in here, please don’t lie to me, I can’t…” he knew how desperate he sounded. He didn’t care. “I don’t remember anything from that confrontation, I have no fucking idea what happened back in Hogwarts and, I think, I think it’s driving me crazy. No, I am pretty sure I’m crazy at this point”

“Malfoy…”

“No!” he roared. “No, let me finish. What he did, what I did, it’s unacceptable. Merlin, he was ready to eradicate the whole school and I was going to… you’ve seen this” he showed her the scars on his forearms. “It was supposed to be you, Granger, it was supposed to be you and I would go….”. _I would go crazy if something happened to you,_ he wanted to say.

But he didn’t. because she was at the point of crying, but she had a full smile on her face, too.

“You really are the stupid one” she breathed, taking his face in her hands. Draco swallowed, still worried, still nervous around her. He didn’t want to contaminate her. Merlin, she was there because of him. He was the one to blame for everything bad that had happened.

“I am serious. It’s my father who we are talking about….”

“You don’t remember anything, do you?” she whispered. She was to close, too close, too close.

“Little things. I know you were there; I just don’t understand…”. Draco couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe properly. She had freckles over her nose and he hadn’t notice before. Her lashes were too long, too dark, too thick and she had chapped lips. Man, she was a mess and she was beautiful and Draco couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

“Malfoy”

“What?” he exhaled. He was weak. He had hurt her, manipulated her, Merlin knows what else. And he just wanted to kiss her.

“You didn’t force anything on me, you couldn’t manipulate me. Neither did your father” she whispered, her hair tickling his chin.

“Then why were you…?”. Draco just didn’t understand a thing.

“I was there because I wanted to help you, you idiot” she finally said.

“Why?”

“We already had this conversation!” she shot back. Draco swore.

“Oh, did we? Because I don’t know if all of a sudden, you’ve also decided to forget everything, but I have no memories. At all”

“Oh, for real? Really, Malfoy? I hadn’t notice that you’ve conveniently forgotten all our conversations after the Battle of Hogwarts, but what I think is that you’re a coward because your instinct hasn’t forgotten anything, so try a little harder and fucking _remember_ me”

“You’re unbelievable. What do you know about instinct? Do you think I don’t want to remember?”

“I think you know something happened and you’re still afraid to face it” she snarled. She was getting on his nerves, Draco thought. Oh, he was furious.

“Get out, Granger, let me fucking remember on my own”

“I’m trying to help you! Those memories are crucial for our case!”

“ _Our_ case? Haven’t you talked with Potter? You are not participating”

“Are you daft?”

“Are you insane?”

“Malfoy, please!! Trust yourself, what do you recall since the end of the Battle?”

It was a blur, he wanted to say. It was confusing and it was a mess of little things. There was the Astronomy Tower, there was Zabini, dark curls. Then there was Potter, he doubted, the Slytherin common rooms. Dark curls. Deep black smoke, trying to suffocate him, dark curls.

“I don’t… I don’t know, Granger. Potter has already tried and…”

“Come on, Malfoy!!” she almost screamed. She did sound desperate.

“You! It’s you all over my memories, for fuck’s sake. It’s infuriating, it’s impossible and it’s… I don’t know. There’s your hair all over it. There’s you, and then there’s smoke, thick and green and black, and then…” He could not stop talking. “Then there’s nothing. There’s like this urge to choke you; apparently, I really thought about killing you. But then there’s this urge to kiss you, too, which is even more confusing an inappropriate because it’s all over my mind, even now, and I don’t know if I was going crazy back there or if I’m already mad, Granger, because, let me tell you” he pointed at her. “that what I think of doing to you should be illegal, Salazar’s balls, I should really shut up. But I can’t”

She said nothing, and Draco continued.

“I’ve been stuck with Zabini and your redhead for hours, you know, they are the worst, and all I could think about was you being controlled by my dad or by me and it drove me insane. It was awful, and I felt guilty, but at the same time I don’t feel guilty at all because you are alive, aren’t you? Then why do I feel like…”

“Like what?” she breathed.

“Like I’ve somehow failed miserably at being a hero for once and I’ve disappointed you in every possible way” he finally said. She bit her lip.

“Fucking Malfoy with your gift for speeches” she groaned.

And then she was kissing him.

For real.

The whole world stopped and everything that mattered were her lips over his, tender and too fucking light, as if she was afraid of him stepping back. As if it was possible. He pressed his lips onto hers as soon as he felt hers pulling apart. He wanted to make sure he didn’t screw that up. His hands were on both sides of her face and then, he felt her laughing against his lips, her hands tangled in his hair.

He couldn’t help it, as he himself left a laugh escape his lips into her mouth. She smiled as she leaned onto him and Draco found it hard to keep kissing her. It was frustrating and it was a mess and it felt so good, he thought, as he walked them towards the wall.

She kept kissing everything she could. His ear, his chin, his neck. _Merlin_ , when she kissed his neck, he though he would lose all the little control he had over himself.

“We…” a bite on his sternum. “We shouldn’t…”. another kiss at the back of his ear. “Granger, we should…”. He groaned. It was fucking impossible to concentrate, when all he could think about was her hands, running up and down his back under his pyjama shirt. He took her chin with one hand, his other one locked on her waist, and lowered his head towards hers, keeping her still.

She was laughing.

It was the most important moment of Draco’s life and she was _laughing._

“I don’t think this is funny. I am being tried tomorrow morning, Granger”. She smiled, trying to catch his mouth with hers. Draco sighed. He understood the feeling. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her, not then, when he had already tasted her. Not when he knew it was the best feeling in the world.

She pouted, but stopped resisting him. Draco backed up, a couple of steps, until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her. Granger tried to straighten her own shirt, blushing, and Draco smirked. She was gorgeous.

“Looks good to me” he murmured. She frowned. Fun, laughing Granger was gone. There it was, the furrowed brows. Know-it-all Granger was back. Draco liked every version of her.

“We need your memories back” she whispered, though. Draco rolled his eyes.

“We have yours, don’t we? If what you say is real, then…”. Granger shook her head as she got closer to him, standing in between his legs.

“I really thought you were going to get your memories back after this” she murmured, almost to herself. Draco frowned.

“What the actual fuck, Granger?!” he snapped. “I am not fond of being used as an experiment; you know”. She shook her head, smacking him on the chest. It hurt, but he didn’t care.

“Are you insane? How could you…?”. She shook her head again, her hair moving flawlessly with each movement. Draco wanted to bury his fingers in there. _Focus. You are mad._

“This…” he pointed between them. “This is bloody important to me; I’ve already told you! and I don’ even remember the reasons why I want to kiss you so badly. But I won’t be another of your experiments where you try everything to make me remember and I won’t be used like…”

“Like what, Malfoy? You’re an asshole” she added. Draco didn’t want to look at her.

“I don’t want your experimental kisses, your pity kisses, your whatever reason you have to be kissing me”

“What do you think? That this is some rom-com and you are getting your memories back with a true love kiss?”

Draco arched an eyebrow.

“What the fuck is a _rom-com_? You know what, I don’t care”

“Good. Because I kissed you” she began. Then she shut up.

“Good point, Granger. I noticed you kissed me. And I kissed you back”

She groaned and out both her hands on his shoulders. It was hard to get to the point, with her so close to him.

“I fucking kissed you because I want to, Draco Malfoy” Granger hissed. “I kissed you because I missed you, and I was worried about you, and I was relieved you were okay, even though you are an amnesic bastard” she finally murmured, and Draco’s heart skipped a beat.

“Oh. Okay”. He didn’t know what to say. He was shocked, he was terrified of what had happened back in Hogwarts and he was also fucking worried he was going to mess whatever they had up. Because he was likely to destroy it, as he destroyed everything.

“And I don’t care about your memories for any other reason that they are the useful ones to get you out of prison, you know. Mine won’t be trusted, they will be questioned and your father will try to destroy every proof we have against him” she continued. “So, yes, forgive me for wishing you got your memories back”

“What did I do?”

“You fucking fought against him and you were determined to kill him and then kill yourself but I interrupted and he almost killed me, and then…”. Draco sighed. Typical Malfoy. “Well, then I fainted and when I woke up you were trying to bleed yourself so that the magic came to you. Then the whole corridor exploded”

He wasn’t listening. Draco could only focus on her face.

“And what happened between us?” he asked, then, cautious. Granger arched an eyebrow.

“Not the time, Malfoy”

“But…”. She was kissing him again, her lips firm on his own, steady and calm, as if she had all the time in the world. They didn’t. He was being sent to Azkaban. Draco only wished he remembered what had brought them both where they were, sharing forbidden kisses in a St. Mungo’s room.

“Look. I do like you, and you don’t remember anything but I think… I think you like me too, so… fuck, I don’t even know why I bother. Let’s finish with this, and then… then we can, let’s see, what do you do around here?”

He couldn’t focus.

_I like you._

_I do like you._

Did he like her? Well, that was an understatement. He thought she was the sun. did that count as liking her? She was broken, and she was healing, he knew it. He was broken too, his soul shattered in little pieces that could cut her and make her bleed and hurt her badly. But she was trying, she was trying ad he had too.

“Are you asking me on a date, Granger?” he smiled. She rolled her eyes.

“Why do I bother?”

“Because you like me. And I like you. A lot. Very much. Too much, until the point it’s inappropriate”

“Oh. Good”. Was she blushing?

“You could be taking advantage of me, since I’m an amnesic bastard” he added. Granger punched him in the shoulder, again.

“You are the worst”

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, he did get the memories back. Hermione sighed. It had to be in the middle of the fucking trial, of course, because he was a dramatic ferret, always longing for attention. She rolled her eyes, as she waited for him outside the Ministry. Harry approached her, two cups of coffee in her hands. She took one, smiling, as he joined her, leaning on a car.

“What do you think will happen to Malfoy Sr?” Hermione asked. She had not stayed for the trial. She didn’t want to, and she didn’t care. Fuck, the man was a psychopath determined to bleed her for an insane spell.

“He’ll probably get the Kiss” he answered, shrugging.

“Good”

“What do you think will happen to Malfoy the ferret?” Harry smiled back. Hermione shook her head. She had no idea. She didn’t really know where they stood, not after having kissed him, not after him having remembered everything. Not after what had happened at the trial. She recalled the moment he had got the memories back. The healers had told them it would take time, but she guessed Malfoy had his own way to do things.

_“Oh, Salazar’s balls” he had said in the middle of his lawyer’s statement. Hermione had gone still, observing him. He was all of a sudden really pale, sweating, trembling._

_“Mister Malfoy…”_

_“Give me a vial. Fuck, give me a vial so that I can prove you what I’ve said is true” he almost snarled to the Wizengamot. Hermione swore under her breath. It was impossible._

_“Mister Malfoy, are you willingly letting us go through your memories?” Kingsley had asked, carefully._

_“Of fucking course” he spat. Hermione looked at Harry, panicked. He was getting in trouble with that filthy mouth._

_“You’ll regret it” Lucius Malfoy had said, sitting straight, never looking at Malfoy. His son, who stood just in front of him, rolled his eyes and Hermione wanted to punch him from the distance. He had to behave._

_“Wait. I want to keep one”_

_“Mister Malfoy, I don’t think you are in power to ask for…”_

_“Look, it’s not related to my case, with all due respect, and I’d like to keep it for myself”_

_“What is he doing?” Hermione murmured. Ron shook his head. He was defying the freaking Wizengamot and it was going to end badly._

_“Mister Malfoy…”_

_“Do something, Harry. Do something!” she whispered._

_“I’m never ever in my life helping him again” Ron snarled, and Hermione had to agree with him. She had spent the whole night answering question, giving her memories, planning with the lawyers the best strategy for Malfoy so that he could be pardoned._

_They didn’t count on him not behaving. For a snob rich pureblood, he really did have the worst manners._

_And then Draco fucking Malfoy had to talk._

_“I might be repeating my words, sir, but, with all due respect, I don’t understand how the memory of me realizing I’m in love with a know-it-all muggleborn is related to the case” he spat._

_The whole room erupted in whispers and shouts and Hermione swore she saw Narcissa Malfoy faint._

“Well” she said, shaking her head. “at least everyone will forget about it when the other trials begin”. She wanted to. The whole press was there and she could already picture the titles of the weekly magazines.

_The mudblood and the death-eater!_

_Golden girl and Slytherin prince, torrid romance_

Hermione groaned and Harry laughed softly.

“You’ll have to figure this out before he gets out”

“I don’t want to talk about it” she murmured. “I have so much stuff to do, Harry, I don’t have time to worry about this teenager drama”.

“I think he is good”

“We’re past that point. The whole world knows now that he is a good person, but he’s made poor choices, you can’t forget about it all of a sudden”

“We’ve all made poor choices over the years” Harry added. She smiled and looked up. The sky was grey, it was going to be a shitty day.

“Tell me about it. I should have ignored that letter eight years ago”. Harry laughed and hugged her softly. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

“He is good. _For you_ ” he emphasized. Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, ‘Mione. Even Ron admitted that was a smooth move, screaming his undying love to the whole Wizengamot” he added, laughing. Hermione didn’t answer.

She had thought about it, of course. she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him admitting his feelings for her. But that didn’t mean she had to give her plans up for him, did it? She was jumping to conclusions, she knew it.

What did that mean?

Hermione couldn’t help it; she was a planner. Draco Malfoy was not in his plans; he had never been and he shouldn’t be. But she thought of the Astronomy Tower, how he had been able to read her so easily, how relieved she’d been when she had seen it.

How it felt to kiss him.

How it felt to be tortured by his aunt.

How it felt to hear him saying he wanted to kiss her. Badly.

How it felt to be called a Mudblood for over seven years.

Hermione Granger was not sure of anything. She was doubting as she’d never dared to doubt. A mistake meant she, Ron and Harry could be killed, she had to be reasonable and look for the best logical answer.

Then she reminded herself she wasn’t at War anymore. She was free. She was doomed, she was hurting and she was free. She could allow herself to have illogical feelings towards Malfoy. She could do it. She was free to do it.

“Oh, fucking finally” Harry snarled, and she looked at the huge door. There he was, with a clean black shirt and bags under his eyes, holding tentatively a wand in his long fingers, as if he was afraid to use magic.

 _He should,_ she thought. Nobody really knew what was inside him. Was the pureblood magic really gone? Hermione bit her lower lip. They hadn’t really investigated it and it was important, what if he was now a super powerful wizard and he didn’t know it?

What if he blew the whole Manor up for casting a warming spell?

He locked his eyes with hers, grey steel looking right across the street towards her. She was breathless, she was doubting and Hermione swore she felt like a stupid little girl.

Then he smiled, an open great smile, showing all his teeth. Hermione had never seen him smile like that, with so much… freedom.

He was free.

He was ready to try to rebuild the world.

He was free.

He was laughing as Harry shook his hand, as relaxed as ever, and it felt weird to look at him. Maybe she wasn’t allowed to.

He hadn’t stopped looking at her. Should she move? Should she go away? What was she supposed to say?

Hermione waited until he took a couple of steps towards her, still biting her lip until it bruised.

His hands were in the pockets of his trousers and his hair was all messy and blonde and she really wanted to punch him in the face.

“So. Granger” he said, his voice harsh. She arched an eyebrow.

“Malfoy”

He smiled again, and she couldn’t help it. She laughed softly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Quite a show back there”

“What can I say? I’m a drama boy”

“You’re exasperating”

“I know”

“You almost get yourself locked up for horrible behaviour” she pointed out. He was getting closer and closer to her. She didn’t move.

“I know” he smiled. She sighed. He was almost there.

“I expected better from you, your tutors must have been disastrous” she half-joked.

“I know”

“I’m glad you’re free” she murmured then, and he smirked. Stupid smirk, she wanted to scratch it off his face. He shouldn’t look like that. He shouldn’t.

“I know” he breathed. His face was just inches apart from Hermione’s.

Well, now or never, she thought.

“You love me” she whispered. His lips were just above hers; it would be so easy to…

“I know” he murmured back.

“I’m not ready to say anything yet” she began. “But I wanted you to know that I have… I don’t expect you to believe me, but you and I…”

“I know” he cut her. She really wanted him to know. She wanted him to believe her, believe her when she said it. When she admitted.

He lowered his head, his forehead against hers, and he closed his eyes. Hermione could seethe long lashes against his pale skin, they were so light she had never noticed them before.

And maybe she wasn’t sure of anything.

But she had no doubt.

Not when his arms locked around his waist and his face stood still, his thumb brushing against the skin on her hip, asking for permission.

She smiled against his lips, closing the distance.

Maybe it was wrong.

Maybe it brought them both unhappiness.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Maybe they could heal each other.

Maybe love was not enough. But it had been, Hermione remembered, as she kissed him, slowly, exploring his mouth. Love had brought his friend back from the dead. Love had made her send her parents away, and they were safe.

Love had made Draco Malfoy redeem himself in front of a centenar of wizards and witches.

“Will you fucking stop thinking, Granger?” he growled against her mouth, and Hermione laughed, taking his face in her hands. She was laughing as she kissed him, all teeth and tongues and him swearing under his breath.

She couldn’t help it.

Suddenly, she had no doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it!  
> Hope you like it, thank you all for reading! <3  
> I usually get inspired by music, and this whole fic was written while listening to this playlist of mine (spoiler, lots of sad songs but, well, we love an angsty writer hahahaha)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4yHPXWThhstQxDlTBHruJV?si=M5NR_hCTR3i9xwFyAk9unA


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